a poem found on a scrap of paper lying in my diary. one of my few compositions that i still have.
it's not cold.
your breath does not crawl on the back of my neck.
your whispers are not dancing tinkerbells around my ear.
your hair is not fragrant in my face.
i don't want to bite you.
i am not.
you are not beautiful.
not painfully beautiful.
the smoke and you are not intoxicating me.
my heart is not all over the place.
you are not dangerously close.
you are not fire embodied.
you are not kama incarnated.
you are not desire personified.
i am not black-charmed.
you are not here.
you don't vanish.
you don't disappear.
you don't exist.
i don't remember you.
or what you brought me to.
i am not.
