Lips are some of the
fiercest gates to Hell
that I've ever seen.

bright little pearls
sparkling white in an arc
i love your smile

.
                       •the   ••••••••
         old man wi-    ••••••••
    thered•as suns    ••••••••
  would set....over    ••••••••
many days•follies    ••••••••  
he committed, then    ••••••••    
unencumbered•fina-    ••••••••       
lly caught up...so now    ••••••••         
he pays • like an unca-    ••••••••         
ged bird,  he had left his    ••••••••            
perch• not looking                                              
back, leaving behi-                                                
nd hatchlings  and                                                  ­
nest• he discarded                                                    
his­  roots  when he                                                    
left them  in the lu-                                                      
rch• flew to pursue                                                      
what­  he had thoug-                                                      
ht was best•now he's                                                    ­ 
ailing thin.....he seeks                                                     
to reconcile • reached                                                   
to his sons...and left a                                                   
voice message•asking                                               
atonement for  his cri-                                             
mes so despicable and                                          
vile • for now he lays con-    ••••••••           
sumed.........by illness and    ••••••••         
rage•hours tick by as his    ••••••••       
days blur into weeks...•    ••••••••      
his frail  breaths weak-    ••••••••   
en as he succumbs in    ••••••••
  bed•finally the call    ••••••••
     did come bearing    ••••••••
           the absolution    ••••••••
                   he seeks•    ••••••••


just a minute too late,
for the old man is already
dead•

She was like a candle.
His touch set her ablaze.
Illuminating her present by incineration of her past.
She burnt and burnt till there were ashes at vast.
He tried to hold her,  but through his fingers, the ashes slipped.
She was finally free,  free from confinements of her sins.
His fire made her pure.
Released her soul from the impure.
The fire was the end of her,  and she swallowed it right the abyss of her soul.
The fire was her redemption, which made her whole*.