The suction, soul distortion. I’ve caught this fortress with the grips of my third eye. Siphoning and freely flowing in and out. Motioning upwards. Grasping the emptiness with my open palm. Track marks and moon beam eyes. Wild. I transfix my heart onto the onset of newness. I break slivers off this dancers soul. The ghost lingers and the shadow howls. Midnight squalor and heavy action a midst the brilliant moon’s gaze. A kiss seducing the translucent nectar from your soft lower lips. Buried in a nocturnal dreamers haven. Tight nit, brooding eyes asking for more. As she recoils and shoots upwards. Glistening soft and subtle.