You felt the ineffability of my oeillade
like a fog materializing each morn,
and your smile lit up the heavens
with a warmth I had never before experienced.

The rispettos that hung on your mouth
made your lips taste like poetry
and your hands soft, like the ghost of a metaphor,
while your breath smelt of suppressed harmonies
and fantastical Neverlands.

And I sighed out the currents of the air
as you smirked into my skin.
The tomorrows I exchanged for your love
still hover on the last few seconds of the clock –
forever my hangman’s noose.

but the waves continue to crash...