The consequence of 4 am:

To taste solitude in my mouth
And recognize it
As the taste of your skin
When it brushes
Against my lips
To try to try to try my dearest
My dearest to try to hold on to you
The way I hold a fistful of air
The way I hold a delicate flower
The way I repress the yearning
To caress it with my fingertips
For fear of breaking its petals
The way I implore it not fade
As it begins to die away
The way you feed Hunger
And it becomes insatiable
The way you move
As I give chase
After the bruising shadow
of your heady scent.

How did this happen?
When was the exact moment
That you wanted me
To fall
That you wanted me
To tear myself apart
Piece by piece
Limb from limb
And I eagerly obeyed
The call
Of your sweetest song?

Listen to me
Just listen, my dearest
Even if you don’t understand
The words I speak
I speak
With my heart
(Where a tiny hole
Has been pricked
So I can breathe a little
From the sharp wave
Of trembling reality
So if you press your ear
Against the barren wall
You can hear the cries
Of where the hollow spaces
Between the blood and fissures
Ache to be filled
With strands of you):

You, are a little, little snowflake
And I, the passionate breath
That held you captive
In a glass case
For a hundred thousand years
As your spirit roamed
In cities sound asleep
Before blowing specks
Of your ashes
Across the misty sea
Which twirled you and teased you
With a twinkling laugh.