Your kisses ferment my blood
until ethanol overwhelms oxygen
and I am burning
from the inside out,
intoxicated.

The years have ground your bones
Into dry flour
Bleached white with acid
And sifted through drooping eyelashes.
I am butter softening slowly
Encased in crinkled foil
But I've lost shape
And '25 grams' are now 15.
We rub together
To form a reluctant breadcrumb
Under uneasy hands
With enough flour to fall apart
And it is bitter.

The colours of your mind
are those seeping into the sky
when Sun meets Earth with a farewell kiss;
ironic that I am saying
hello
and those other suns
who had eclipsed
after roaring fireworks consumed the sky
are those I bid farewell.

I am dust
seen for an instant
when your eyes and the light
are lost in a moment
and I am caught
in the crossfire.

I am dust
losing control
with every burst of your breath,
driven wild
as your fingers throb
through me.

I am dust
seen when your mind wanders
and vanishing
when your eyes
find
something
better
to
look
at.