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The Kiss by N.E. Collins

Walk with me between moments of silent contemplation, where the edge of time dances to the echo of a sleepless void.

I remember your voice, enticing my soul, bursting forth with shades of vermillion and yet your lips, so cold, the feel of death.

To slumber now within a daydreams sigh, your whispers, a hushed gift, drifting like an emotionless breeze through broken promises.

The assurances on your lips, guided me softly, my rebirth, your watchful gaze pacifying me as you offered freedom from the agony of existence.

Can I walk with you; will you hold my heart as you did my breath, as we danced through the flames of your eternal desire. Are we alone now?

I awoke beneath a darkened veil, my eyes cut the world for the first time, a marble-like reverie of chance and endless fury.