Meekly, she comes before me,
her lips parted as she prays,
aching and consumed by the cruelty of life before love,
it’s way past time, but I let that pass me by, and I just hold her.

Reborn, like a saviour on a Sunday,
I am fresh in her fantasies,
lace on my skin, petals in my perfume,
overboard in our oceanside dreams,
vivid and vibrant,
eternally violet,
standing out against a colourless sky.

All it took was a few steps,
swept from one world to another,
high as the spirits that carry our secrets across borders,
like little love letters.
I held her, and she was safe.