The tea turned cold in my mouth,
Burning my lips
I drenched myself in cloth
Dark satin,
Hair pinned,
The crumpled well-thumbed page
Clasped to my chest
People clumped together
Painted complexions
Stillness, they linger
No one wanting to lead the pursuit
There he was,
On four wheels
Ready for his final move
I just wanted to see him one last time
To lock my eyes with his, to meet his gaze.
But so much cloth lay between us undisturbed,
A disjointed pulse from the tapping of the wheels
Matched my heartbeat.
We went in,
Thick, humid silence –
A stifled moan.
A young finch lands and bathes in the fountain,
Nimbly it darts avoiding spray
With grace it takes flight.
The curtains close; the music abruptly is cut off,
Everything has been said
But the words haven’t filled the silence,
People slowly fade out, their duties completed.
Darkness swamps the empty space
Dusk sets in,
The sun will never break eastward again.