.:Missed Touch

Approaching to her neck
An arrow through my chest
I try to violate
My teenager arrest

In front of every touch
Every missed touch
Reminds the ones come late
The ones I missed such

Denying a younger icon of chalk
My skin
Chokes her talk

Just one possible contact
Her gaze
Thrown into my eyes

And the icon of my mother cries
On my statue of chalk
Plasmated
By the same hands
I try to trascend

And I see skinny bricks
When her coldness becomes her crown
A wall is never to see through
If it's not to be broken down