Pathology is a metaphor on Pulse
There is space between the layer of my skin and my soul
Wrapping a breath I feel in your touch as I wait
Waiting for what is and what could be
Only in thought I am alive, the essence of longing
Surrounded by your skin as compassion seduces
Focus slips off hinges attached to our doors.
Casualty lingers, calling to my core
While speeches spring in labored declarations
Heads float into clouds wanting release from anchors
Mysteries of frozen feelings discharge our attraction
Wisdom slips as we forget our needs in seductions
Arrogance believes we have the truth of who we are
Poems march for us all as we sing frailties songs
Life's concerns are forgotten and slip away
I’m in love with my pathology.
