Behind my back the light draws into corners and disappears, revealing what only in dark can be seen. Phantom feelings, filling a space no longer bounded, pulling and stretching to painful limits, defeat me with the subtlest strokes to the soul. There I am, stripped for none to see, unwilling to turn from the flickering, fighting flame, beaten by wind, yet still the brightest I’ve ever known.
Nice use of structure, my friend. You've got those wraparound lines down fine! Good stuff - like "subtlest strokes" for the alliteration.
Nights such as the last bring forth silly notions of fate ... and souls held fast in empyrean emotions... drawn together by design, drawn in one unbroken line... A dream, I think, but then again all things arise in the dreams of men.
