For he who is

Only when it’s gone
Trees in dark imprints of the situation
I feel it over my skin
His footprints dent in my blood
Shy deceased of another world
Golden spurn over shapes of gloss
The life would be so much better then

She will shun her eyes from the pain
A nude crisp in blue light
May she weep may she stay still
His mind is weak but I need his strength
A love I only manage to breathe when without him
I need his arms, a breath of fresh air tangled in a clasp
Of light, shrivelled.

like music on a page I hear him sing, a mind full of promises, I feel from within. I need his soft touch. Something never distraught like leaves in the fire.