Teeter at the Fulcrum

Butterscotch

Torched irises

This universe 

In my eyes

In your eyes

Is ablaze

Don't torture me

Don't torture me

Melting on tongues

Boron-green flames

Silently grows on us

In your eyes

In my eyes

Your embrace

Oh, is it killing me

How it's killing me

With a bittersweet taste

Two feline lights

In the dark

Radiant stars

So faraway

So far apart

We are now

Once again

Hopscotch, asphalt, four jaded feet, four rhythmic hands. That week on repeat. And it never ends. But it did. Our chapters are jumbled now, once again: idiot games, life. Our destinies crossed once again, to diverge? Whether in a castle or a tavern, we parted, speechless, in a warm embrace. Adieu, mon ami!

They rebuild Ersilia elsewhere when the bonds become unbearable. Did I trade you for freedom? Or am I delusional, and there were never us? Only me, you—two separate entities born in this vast universe to once meet, then part again and again, destined for years of solitude in this vast universe. But there's no such thing as destiny, only science and coffee dregs. And it feels lonely sometimes as autumn takes the reins. I depart.

Never let me go,

whisper.

Unconsoled,

But resolved

To resume the journey,

engine roar.

Join me!

You say no, you cannot,

And I know you are right.

I'm a gone man, a box man,

Kitsuned, carried away,

Holding hands makes them sweat.

Hey! But what if I lo—

Elif,

—ve—

Else

—You