Dasha: Of an Estival Goodbye

Somber, red lipstick lay atop a dress,
Plaintively sewn with one spindly finger,
Salt splayed across the floor, her face a mess,
But syrup-stained lips drew her to linger,
Compelled by innocuous acts of lust,
She came running – three hours by dirt road,
Following silhouettes despite distrust,
Her Achilles heel; she asked for the code,
To the house that thundered and shook daily,
The tinted ethers boiled and sputtered,
Together we wore red lipstick gaily,
Shedding emotions that were too cluttered,
Secrets divulged were rebottled with sleep,
Transient light flecked the tea left to steep.