That initial spark is intoxicating, isn’t it my dear?
It’s the sun that you stare at for so long
that your vision gets disrupted by those dark spots
where shadows can hide in plain sight, whispering
because you’d never hear them over your beating heart.
Then the sun goes away and your eyes
start to shake the overwhelming veil thrown on them.
Doubt tells you secrets you know already.
Meanwhile, the shadows realize they’re starting to blend
into darkness of night, essence of their soul
so he makes sure to bring the sun back
which you stare at again, falling into his Circadian trap.
Could be just a word, a message sent
that becomes dawn to your heart, but not too much
because he is not a creature of the light.
Have you ever wondered where he goes in the night?
How does he pass the time, where does he sleep?
These are worries the sun makes you forget
when it reaches through your retinas to your recollections,
collecting them and convincing you to let go.
It’s a cycle of abuse through subtle sins
but it’s weak if you can find the right point to press,
even if that point is a pin hovering just above
your eyes for him, where the only problem
is finding the courage to blind yourself to his charm.