Petrichor

Your tears like rain hit the dust

on the road to my lonely self.

The fumes intoxicate me

like your smell does,

Rising into me, raising me out, ghosts unresting.

I hate seeing you cry.

I love seeing you cry this way,

Your heart breaking while breaking mine.

Exhaling your coolness onto

the parchedness that is this heart,

Pure emotion bites at my conscience,

I sizzle under your intensity.

As you water me, drench me in yourself

And I burn and smoke,

colouring you blind with my soul.

You are the scent of love on my dry earth.

Breaking me with your whispers,

stones turn to sand at your touch.

You have become ichor in my veins.

You have become ichor in my veins.

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