A thousand faces
but you in my fingers,
a moment before
your cheeks notice
my roaring thoughts
and Ra
defies the jealousy
of the possessive veil.
Two kids
jumping the tightrope
foretaste the flux
tuning detailed geometries
on rough ground.
Having you or having you back,
which courtesy
fate will make us,
as I died
in the flames
of the doubt,
I barely smothered you
with twinkling guiding stars.
Look at me one last time.
