Midnight Strolling

June 12, 2011
Light softly smolders away and your last breath catches at the end of the cigarette
Smoke bends and curves through the pale yellow of a street light.
Ashes sink to the ground like butterflies.
The weight of darkness has escaped you.
The air is suddenly cold around you
And your breath escapes your lips
As though it longs to leave.
We begin to dance in the gentle glow
Of a silent serenade.

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