Madison Avenue
She adores my laugh
and fears my history
But finds herself in the pieces
of a mirror that hangs above an empty bed
Empty of heart
Empty of desire
Empty of that void that hides what a soulmate can only see
without vision
without touch
without light
without her
Explain the taste that lingers upon my ears
and drips me wet upon a dry heart
with hope
with passion
with trust
with adoration
She adores my laugh
She adores my words
She adores my pain
She adores me
a me that needs her
a me that does love her
a me that is learning to like me
because of her
because of her heart
because of her desire
because of her laugh
I slip into a pallet of paint
that contains her
that envies no rainbow
that never washes clean or away
that is of a rare brilliance
She heals my damaged soul
and fades my hidden scars
beneath the glass gates
beneath the nervous smiles
beneath the unwilling goodbye
beneath the pain
My Madison does exist
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