At first. We smiled. We laughed. Synchronically.
We danced together, went out for lunch,
played little games to chase away the chills.

The pink lights shimmered down upon us.
You were so beautiful then, and remain so now.
But look at yourself. Look around.

Whose arm encompasses your side? Whose
arm mine? It's not mine. It's not yours.
You've left, I've left, and our
moon lies bleeding
lungs filling with water

your vignette fades into itself
static plays on the television
in and out my vision comes, loving
you, watching you leave me again

every night in which I incite myself to rise
on my lips lies only your name, and never yours

drifting away we know this can't last
if only it hadn't elapsed, then you could stay

Shostakovich's 15th builds in, ardent in passion I
remember your sultry dance, a pout,
a glimmer, take me back into elysian
Ariel couldn't bring you back herself

Another droplet falls
a light thud from your
heartbeat resounds, a
particle of sand, your
lifeline. Wind rustles
a lock of your hair.
What's frozen in time
never is. Except the
little fly's wing beats -
they suspend her in the
         hourglass

flesh drips
        a downward fall
honey from the comb

honey and flesh
dripping from their weary dreams
a ripple in an orchard of diamonds
grey flurries fall soundless
sorcery in the shadows

gentle forms toil within the frigid air
scorched in dusk, damaged from the storm
their tears flow
collect in the aperture of tempests
elucidating

lifted, their fate descends into moonlight
the rain stops
fate awakens
becomes silken
and separates