Nothing on Earth complements each other’s charm better than my ebony hair and your ivory skin do.
Sometimes, with the slight fragrance of peppermint and a hint of vanilla scent from behind our necks. Your fingertips will then begin to find their way onto my back, fondling my stiff shoulder until I dare myself to lean on yours, slowly and cautiously.
I will then stare at your pale skin with the look of a four-year-old witnessing their first white Christmas of snow flurry. Full of adoration, and just a hint of slight dismay, fear not to have them again.
A little caress here, a little less tense there, then time pauses for us,
as if it offers some momentary interlude for us to dwell within guilt and questions.
For it demands more than mutual devotion for two individuals to cohere,
for it is unattainable to alter the pillars.
For not a single truth about us will ever remain