The cool night breeze and rays of light that the stars wielded caressed your skin the way a mother embraces her cooing child.

I was laying in a pond of dark, lonely, thoughts that consumed my mind. Pulling me farther and farther into the trenches that housed creatures of the night.

Drowning, sinking, suffering, gasping for that oxygen of happiness that would fill the void in my lungs. It would sail me to my island. Where I would be safe in my thoughts.

It was almost too late, I raised my trembling broken hand from the wave of depression and grasped the safety raft of your affectionate words as I peered into the deadly beauty of your gaze that in time would sail me back to my island

The island you sailed me to was rich. You fed my starving soul. You warmed my grief and shame clad hands. You cleansed the guilt from my lips with your own. Each touch caused my synapses to singe with passion.

As Times’ clock ticked, almost striking twelve, I stumbled harder into a trance that was your existence. The dance we danced was written in fairy tales. You became my story and I forgot to check the clock.

Each second was a new smear of ink that ruined our pages. And when the new hour struck, the sparkle in your star gaze and the burning of your wooden fire  started to dim.

The currents towered above the tree canopies.  Thunder tore across our island like Posideins storm. The raft that carried our hearts was ripped by the deceitful rocks surrounding our haven.

The oar splintered and was pulled under along with your heart. Mine clung to the pieces of raft left in the wake, drifting, hoping, wishing, to find yours once again. To beat simultaneously.

The water was too cold and the waves too rocky. Sinking in the deep blue pools our love drowned.

There you left me lost, forever searching for your heart once again.