Communion

This was originally written because I was bored and had access to a plethora of those magnetic words on the fridge.

The translucent fever burns my senses

With a remembered perfume

The salt of tears almost dances

In the ghost-light from a candle

And the velvet wind caresses

With delicious vastness

As a porcelain angel you appear

Contrasting my concrete peace

With your fragmented

Feline nature

The yin and yang

Balances our strange communion

We dance faster