Come... replay me...
I feel you most when you’re far... like a phantom heat beneath my skin... like a memory refusing to fade. You always taste like something forbidden... like the afterglow of a sin we were too holy to stop committing. We burned so we wouldn’t feel cold... fire to blood... blood to bone... bone to marrow... marrow to ashes... ashes to snow.
The hell was familiar... it sounded like your name... we burned not to feel the coldness of heaven... and in that blaze, we found heaven in hell. The fire remembers every touch... even ashes remember the way of love. Disappointment shines when everything else dies out... our passion drowns us quietly... like too much warmth turning into suffocation. The desire promised light... but gave only smoke... and still, I breathe it in... just to taste you again.
An1, 2025
