geometricalfuck

All day, checking
pockets with
silhouettes envel-
oping my mind; black
movements that
eneveloped
me.

Like a camera, poised
against the wall,
framing the most
beautiful collision, those
shadows burrowed themselves
beneath my eyes. I blink,
but they remain; converging
emotions which scar
my back.

Not masochism, nor sadistic
nails. Just tiny tears I
wear to know. To know. I'll
run my fingers across my
back, before feeling an
uprising. And that's
fucking desire.