Our Truth

(For the one who lies vulnerable with me.)

My words don’t pass muster
Neither does my gaze look deep enough
But your scars still open and bleed in my presence
Those chains tighten around your soul when it flutters
Your secrets fling themselves at me for a hug
Your dark desires are the albatross around my neck
Like a million flowers around a deity

I may be ordinary
Mundane
And with flaws
But my essence flows into the crevices of your being
And I act as tincture to your lacunae.
Admit it.
Or not.

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