The Southern Cross under neon signs A human calculus at Ronn’s design I saw the subject, fixed point in the crowd My future history spoken out loud That carnival hummed a dangerous key And every synapse fired just for thee In Sydney's summer, the air was dense and cold A story of discipline, waiting to unfold. I tried to sever the connection (The nightly plea) Walk with me into this direction (A slow command) But you maintained your high discipline (A beautiful, silent sin) Until the midnight changed the season You were the logic, and I the treason. You were the law, and I the violation. My exquisite, perfect, slow frustration. The next six evenings, the same iteration A flawless geometry of pure frustration You’d float among them, gentile and refined Leaving only shadows of you behind. That playful manner, yet always composed A smile that kept the final gate closed. I waited for the flaw, the single crack of doubt But your positivity never ran out. Then came the zenith, the calendar’s end A system breach I couldn't comprehend I watched the seconds die, felt the world slow down The only soul in this sleepless town. You turned your head, a sudden, final grace And time dissolved within that perfect space. Execution of desire, cold and bright You walked the distance, into the light. I tried to sever the connection (The nightly plea) Walk with me into this direction (A slow command) But you maintained your high discipline (A beautiful, silent sin) Until the midnight changed the season You were the logic, and I the treason. You were the law, and I the violation. My exquisite, perfect, slow frustration. Those Technicolour eyes... they stole the key. That long, brown hair... the symmetry. My heart is stolen, permanently healed. The bond is special, the immortal data revealed. Soulmates. The sequence is locked. Forever.
