Castle

Do your eyes flicker like the dancing, nightly revels of fireflies

beyond my windowsill?

I wouldn't know.

I've never been close enough
to catch the beacon of light
amidst the raven's feathers.

The ink of your orbs
and the tar of my soul
go quite well together, don't you think?

Maybe my love for you
is just as tarnished and artificially lucid
as an onyx gemstone.

Maybe my love for you
is the soft, strained gasps I pilfer
every time I choke on my tears.

Maybe you are the white king
and I am the black queen.

My love is death.

Just a mere whisper
or a breath of hesitation
is enough to suffice.

Checkmate.