burning stars in my pocket

if twenty storms
can’t bring you
down, a lightning
flash can kill;
mercy beyond
your wildest dreams,
and let me hold you
still, tie you
down with my
pale hopes that
bite and tear at me,
i’ll walk you,
precious pet, into
nostalgia, so wait;
it’s not an
endless sea, you wouldn’t
sink in if you
tried, but the
countdown into future
wins your battle
against time; i’ll
hold you here,
right in my pocket
lined with pretty
silk, your kindnesses
and your fears,
so let me
keep a tiny
piece of you
the way we did
before; i’ll sink my
nails into a fraction
of your gracious,
precious soul,
should you cry
to break free,
and escape the memory
of mercy killing;
you and i will
stay right here
in this hypnotic lane,
nor will we
lose to bitter stars,
nor torpid time again.

T. E. Pyrus

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