I had in faith in you

Feb 14 | 2023

The inkiness of such chill inflicts reservations of what your composition could do;

An aortic yearning ever constricting the elusive saturation you drew.

*The foolishness of a heart being laced into the seam.*

Will revelations rip the vessel as violently as Jackson Polluck dreams?

*or*

Can we straddle the duality of *like* and lust, where time is a bust and lily’s can bloom?