Taken from perspective
your words infect me still;
do you aspire to rewire
every flare back; broken bare
repair unbroken air until
this atmophere's ill?
I knew your thoughts were thunder
but still i dug in deep;
do you inquire to design
my weary eyes and ears black-blind
translate unspoken hate to keep
our ardency asleep?
correct my misplaced manner
but this question stands aloof
if love has no capacity
will you wait until there's proof?
[ if love, like air, can only be felt and never seen, will you believe that it exists? ]
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