A dim darkness has descended
upon this old room of ours.
The restless dance of light and shadow grows visible.
When the truth of burning tears casts its shadow—
your arrival seems to
herald the birth of a thrilling sensation.
A soft-voiced, silent rising of contentment,
in an alternative correspondence
builds within me an inner sanctuary.
This way—
if your sighs should touch my chest,
even behind my bloodshot eyes
I cannot hold you for long—
it becomes unbearable pain.
Pain's Solitude
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