Maybe it was the imperfection of the night. Maybe the sourness of breath. The sweet placid night Serene after the soiled stares. Imperfection. Tenderness swells through my veins. Light unspoken touch, Fingers trickling through my skin. Without anxiety for a reason, This just is. We just are. Ultimate comfort in a question-less moment. The cold imperfect night Warms my heart. Inexplicable night. To explain would be to rush. Sense is made Through the dark eyes …showed first 75 words of 165 total…

…showed last 75 words of 165 total…Encouraging movement. They cannot control moment into minute. The past is an illusion. God, why degrade us of perfection? For its thoughts lie within my heart Its breath lay upon my skin Its sound lay within my ears. Though my eyes may close, though my eyes may open The same sight remains equal Manifested thoughts only prove true. To those who see imperfection in this; Only have imperfect eyes. Perfection is possible. Perfection is you.