Embody - The Fault in These Lines (Final Issue)

The Japanese have a phrase for knowing on first meeting someone

That you are about to fall in love.

I don’t remember it but

those guys are on to something.

I wanted to leave a scar on you. I could already tell

How your hand would fit in mine. I like knowing

You are walking around with me seared into your skin.

I admit it was part selfishness, part curiosity,

But which love isn’t?

There are things, susurrations of the soul,

for which definitions exist for slipping away between fingers.

Words crumble under the weight of

an artless human existence.

Call them words, call them nymphs,

they demand only to be felt.

See, you placed your mouth on mine

Breathed lightness in me, breathed me in

Distended my body, made it soar and glide.

You want to know about Afterwards? After words,

Nothing hurts except

those who remain beyond the horizon.

The fault in these lines

is that we no longer speak the same language.

We are not bodies who have souls,

We are souls in recycled bodies.

I am the void of the cosmos,

Another star burned up and disintegrated.

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