On razor's edge, you cushioned my fall.

Another day spent in mind,
the sun shining, but
in the witching hour
I fade into you,
eternally yours,
a swing into time.
On the shoreline
of my cranial chamber,
thoughts are awash,
on the memories
of your sandcastle,
time gouges away.
Tables and chairs still arranged
I check the time,
it hasn't changed,
you're not there,
but a field of glass blurred.
Just because I like
the sound of being
stranded, I peel back
the seasons of you
out of the unknown
on razor's edge.
I see
the laws of nature
at your throat
here with me,
the making of a tombstone
above a marquee moon,
and a door open.
I want to scream,
don't know what I want;
in front of your eyes,
the only one that knows,
our shadows dance,
no longer making time.
Did we both die pretty?
The tide is out.