The Boy With The Leather Tie


1. The Boy With The Leather Tie

I touched the air,

I felt the pain he felt and sighed.

I knew this is what unrequited meant.

Unrequited and biased.

A prisoner in a prism of cells,

in a fragile cocoon.

It dissolves and reforms writhing your bed sheets by morning.

Yet i still sweat with nerves.

The longing for this lucid breath to be free,

for the words to go further than paper.

To be whispered into his cells. To make every bone quiver.  

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