....

And you invade my soul again.
How do you do it?
Everytime.

You echo my thoughts like a pensieve.
Hold them like glistening silver smoke,
turn them over at will.
And hold them out for display.

But you are not supposed to.
Then why do you do it?
How do you do it?

I, like a drop of rain,
on a dry window pane,
watch the sun kill me.
Yet, you make me live.

Can you for once, give me your essence.
Unwrap it from the gold foil,
and give yourself up to me.
Vulnerable, weak.
I'll give you love.