A lovely Collabo

Poet: She lays there,  sweetly gazing behind his eyelids...dark brown moonlights that put a sparkle in her night sky...

Poetess: ...it becomes harder to tell him. As she sits there & contemplates between living a lie and the truth she choses to remain silent. Her confession would only cause destruction & she can't afford to lose him, again. She's imprisoned within... herself.

Poet: Trapped within bars of chaotic thought...invisibly real...strategically set before her in every direction. She wishes her truth was a lie itself...forcing herself to make it into a fairytale night after night, only to wake up and face reality when the sulight rises her...he loves past imperfection, but can't bear the lies...

Poetess: She tries so hard not to let him see her cry. The first tear would reveal the pain, the second the truth. As he pulls her close she is disgusted with herself. How could she hurt the man who gave her nothing but the world? How could she be so selfish with his trust? How could she sacrifice the unity in "us"?

Poet: For "us" was the very vow she broke, & the very book he wrote..symbolizing her with the very title, with her kiss on every page. Turns out that he was in a daze, thinking that he knew her longer than his day. The longer she waits to confess her closet's loose change & treasure, the more the hurt will be when the truth finds it's path of light right to his veins, for the blood flow goes straight to his heart, the very location he placed her. She can only hide for so long..

She's a lovely writer...I can't wait to read more of her work!