A fight or flowers

For my fiance, someday - someday!

You see something in the void between us,

But there are no beings ethereal in the space between objects,

Nor can we feel true energy anymore. On the contrary,

That's the lie.

My energy is your projection,

Your saying yes is my projection,

This is practicum in sanity.

The body trembles, sed ex quid?

Ex gaudium?

Ex timor?

I crush the fresh lily against your breast:

My fuck-me look is not returned.