He surrendered to the cause.
As he lay awake, smouldering. Shouldered by indefinite discourse. Pillage by the pain. Savaged by utter melody of the one voice. The voice that should make me search for peace. Instead I wait. I wait for the never ending paradigm to shift the focus of time.
Time, the mischievous little fairytale founder that began the end of longing. Crossed itself by as I lay to waste in her eyes. As I dwelled in silence between her words. And waited for a kiss back.