After white

You look so good in all shades of blue until one rainy morning I witness white cotton sitting gently on your shoulders bringing out the glow of burnt caramel in your eyes and life suddenly gets divided into before white and after white and in my head you begin to taste like the 18-year-old malt that I savoured over months taking a few breathless sips at a time letting it drizzle past my lips and swirl inside my mouth before coating the insides of my jaded soul sometimes by myself and sometimes with company but you I will not should not could not share because to do that I would first have to trap you inside a receptacle but you slip through the threads I've laid out bare like moonlight filtering in through the window of the train that I take back home every night with its wheels moving me away from you with every passing second making me wonder what it would be like if I left behind an impression of my incisors on your ear lobes as you wondered if I was the one who would finally derail you from your perfectly running days and nights as you forged ahead with the confidence and determination that once drew me to you but now only makes me wish you would fail just for once with me by side in your arms and around your waist making the biggest mistake of your life knowing that you've been altered forever with my faulty DNA now blending into the astounding concoction that is you.

The Cloudcutter