midnight hair, cascades
(is caught)
flush against alabaster skin,
blood red lips bloom with sudden ferocity
in their bed of purest white, so they stand
as stark as fire - caught within nights place.

azure pools, uncertain, questioning,
bleed their colour down ****** cheeks
carving lines of loss and love, and
catching mornings light:
flaming and sparking in each sob.

such sudden, sad, and awful beauty
catches at this now flat heart.

so that now, even across the many years
and paths and unforeseen changes that
life has laid before my tired feet,
this picture lingers still, perhaps
caught within some ebb of memory,
flotsam (seemingly forever) anchored
to my perception of irrevocable loss.