Coral red like a weathered paint on rather unique bed posts made of brass
The shelf handles are halfway red, underneath the grab section, faded on the palm side
Neither should ideally have been painted, but you wanted to match it to the decor
And here we are a few years later lamenting on our poor choices of paints and surfaces
It is easy to give in to momentary thoughts and deny what sometimes can be obvious
Often being oblivious to facts make us fall from edges crumbling without warning
Neither of us should ever stand on ledges, especially old ones without knowing its pitfalls
And here we are on the floor on our backs fallen, separated by a picket fence of thoughts
Like a random day of lovemaking can be brought about to an indefinite halting
To a point where the feeling of lust could evaporate like camphor subliming in heat
Neither of us can ever be prepared to meet such a dilemma head on, it's quite unthinkable
Yet here we are in the coldness of the heart no longer warming in a touch of intimacy
As I sit under the chandeliers, glowing with a hint of a fading sun upon a beautiful evening
I look into the black night, the distant glow sign is a cold white, bringing me chilling thoughts
Neither of us would want to leave our scent on each other anymore, it seems so lost
Yet here we are in the embrace of love, wondering if our tongues would meet again
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