Beloved, with curtains so dark in their texture.
You can see through them
To detect, my seeking gaze,
So that I may embrace you, beneath quilts of softness.
Like a book with two covers, to merge the story together.
We are felt as the pages, written with words from lonely sighs.
We are felt without the goodbyes, to make us longing in what waits.
The few droplets of sweat that rain from our minds,
The few droplets of blood that land to our hands.
And, like rabbits, we run through whatever had once made us dark
Behind the curtains.
Here is where we tell each other that nothing was wrong,
And everything is right.