like a bowl of warm milk
nourishing my weary soul
allowing me to purr at last

his eyes blinded me in one
split moment, creating a path
to I knew not where but

like a cat in the dark
I was not afraid, in fact
I embraced the journey

my scattered heart
mirrored his thoughts
with truth and passion

intimate echoed words
the timing, so flawless
magical to the eyes

but wanton and lawless
and in time the road
became steeper and

more difficult to climb
impossible really, as
my secret path faded

onto an empty canvas
screaming in agony for
that one master stroke

shameless addictions
with habit-forming hues
dangerously vibrant

paled in comparison
to him, and the eye
of the beholder still

blinded by blue
a week, a year
then two...