night #2

her eyes don't trust.
this is good.
her words are poison and honey,
never a sweeter death by voice.
for me:
deconstruction of the familiar
and no longer safe.
for she:
perhaps diving into black water
perhaps something else.
her mind and spirit
vibrant and pulsing,
pushing me back;
making me
small, unsure and
but there grows
a distance past me
with those silver eyes;
i wonder for her soul.
and for whats left of mine.