Locked
we pretend to be here for others
find ourselves
something new
something cynical
impulsive, schematic
However
alone
the proximity of longing
puzzled by beating gestures
Gradually
completely
beautiful
painful
around the neck
intertwined
I am ready to want you,
to strangle you into the most beautiful fragrance
but in the morning we feel ready
to love something in common
Blacks and whites
days and nights
dragonflies and butterflies
Us.