You ask \u2013 and the night quietly halts its pace.
I tear the black fabric from it,
To sew a shirt from its depths.
You put it on \u2013 and it falls along the seam,
Like my fingers on your skin.
The world crumbles in the cracks
Of your gaze\u2026
But you are not afraid.
You remember: at the end of all roads
I stand, tucking behind my ear
Your name instead of a last cigarette.
Where my blood is \u2013 there is your tea.
Where your breath is \u2013 there is my grave.
We have confused life and death.
But it is nothing to fear\u2026
For in your movement \u2013 there is my prayer,
And in my fall \u2013 there is your shadow.
Now tell me:
Was this just a coincidence?
No.
This is us repeating the Universe.
Again. And again.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
You ask \u2013 and the night quietly halts its pace.I tear the black fabric from it,To sew a shirt from its depths.You put it on \u2013 and it falls along the seam,Like my fingers on your skin. The world crumbles in the cracksOf your gaze\u2026But you are not afraid.You remember: at the end of all […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[55],"tags":[122,113],"zbirnyk":[],"class_list":["post-4662","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry","tag-death","tag-love"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n