and I will come again

Paint kisses poetry

Say we spend our last moments staring
We do not blink. We do not shift our gaze.
The air feels tight, and the seconds slip by.
I watch you hold your breath as though it might save you
from the tide that rushes in and snatches illusions.
The present sneaks up behind us, tapping each shoulder,
offering a grin that is half promise and half riddle.