black tango

Sure has been a long time.  
I see you now and saw what was  
now seemingly divided.  
Your intentions obscure, I procure  
wonderment if there are any remnants  
of longing still withheld.  
And I still wonder if you want me.  
False passion maims the words.  
Yet it is the hidden kind that burns  
out the one who hasn't finished.  
Are we not lovers albeit silent?  
Forever staring each other down  
in this black tango which we began.  
Divided by a cold, ghostly wall.  
Our facades humidified  
as intense heat hits the cold.  
 
What deters the hands to reach?  
The eyes to meet? Two lips to four?  
I'm not sure if I'll ever know  
and doubt you would either.