I used to think
that I could be inspired
by the hint of your name
drowning the atmosphere
by the shape of your smile
reflected back at me
promoting some semblance
of sunshiny relief
weighing down my pocket
that I kept stored for rainy days;
now I'm not so certain,
that moment will ever return.
You're a frail, corpse cold being;
with no beginning, no end.
The light has left your eyes,
deadened them, narrowed
them to slits;
I feel wary in your line of vision;
I shrink back in self repressed fear,
paralyzed from the neck down;
in discomfort.
Now, the tension dismounts
I frolic through the lovely day
teeming with summer
and ever green boughs
and holy warmth
cycling through sunsets
harping on old love's
I look into your flinty,
eyes, burning flame,
I touch your ashen skin
and you crumple
into dust
which in one deft motion
I blow from my palms
and kiss good-bye.