Madison Avenue

She adores my laugh and fears my history But finds herself in the pieces of a mirror that hangs above an empty bed Empty of heart Empty of desire Empty of that void that hides what a soulmate can only see without vision without touch without light without her Explain the taste that lingers upon my ears and drips me wet upon a dry heart with hope with passion with trust with adoration She adores my laugh She adores my words She adores my pain She adores me a me that needs her a me that does love her a me that is learning to like me because of her because of her heart because of her desire because of her laugh I slip into a pallet of paint that contains her that envies no rainbow that never washes clean or away that is of a rare brilliance She heals my damaged soul and fades my hidden scars beneath the glass gates beneath the nervous smiles beneath the unwilling goodbye beneath the pain My Madison does exist