Satin today
Tomorrow blade
A mask won’t hide his thoughts away
Closed doors to me are an archway
His absence is saying come my way

His distance is sky for my parachute
His bitterness to me is the sweetest fruit
I’ll put it on my tongue and savor his juice
His walls to me are just another route

Dirt was made for digging tunnels
Demons fall bored so may cause troubles
His desert to me is an open jungle
His masks to me are just more popped bubbles

Stuck with me on planet Earth
The deeper you burrow, I value your worth
The more you plummet, I feel your girth
The more you love, the more I curse

© Delia Ross. 2019