I am the sand that calmly waits for your arrival
and when the hour is dark
and no one is to be seen,
you cover my pores of life with a powerful rush,
a force within you.
Once you have smothered me with unimaginable passion
and have grasped the tiny particles of my being,
you begin to fade away,
leaving traces of your cunning bliss throughout my grooves and curves
as the curious ray of light stuns you.
Pieces of my existance clasp to your waves of sorrowful good-byes
and my every grain of self-will has followed you.
Yet you leave me soaked
in the exquisite poison of your essance,
laying under the burning flame that announced your departure.
Warm ...
dry ...
I grow pale and clumpy ...
anxious for the hours of obscurity to achieve its machiavelian goal.
Colors begin to paint the sky
and I see you rushing with sin,
bringing me the water of life
and washing away the gentle pieces of my enchantment.
Our inebriating ritual,
once the birds cease to sing and the breeze betrays me.
But maybe someday, I believe,
I will not only capture your volume and juice that enflavors me,
but your powerful mind
and perhaps you will caress my soul and take me with you
instead of leaving pieces of me behind.

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