Drew to an abrubt end at the corner of your mouth
Like an arsonist starting fires on a whim or perhaps propelled by a quiet rage
You burned all the ropes of my resistance
Singed me so pale white flesh marooned
It sent me reeling at first but then I remembered that day in science class where we learnt that everything is perception
That's why hot is hot and cold is cold but then nobody could classify the neutrality of your spine as you sit, pen in hand, unaware of my stolen glances
A Frightened Rabbit inspired random poem that popped up in my head along with thoughts of you.
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