Voices echo from the halls
of distant memories;
the sky darkened by
the migration of shadows.

Love was found at
the height of appeal;
that moment of joy
arrived quickly
and deteriorated rapidly.

Life consumed the space
reserved for happiness;
the absence of trust
broke our hearts and
shattered our perceptions.

We know the question
and fear the answer;
wondering if we will see
another sunrise.

He sits there
Hoping she will
Say something

She says nothing
Hoping he will
Say something

He sits there
Quietly observing
The way she pretenses
Her thoughts
Erratically

She says nothing
Listening to his silence
Create a vocabulary of
Unspoken words

His sits there
Silently watching
The way she changes
Her moods
Sporadically

She says nothing
About the text message
She received with
His words of affection

*Meant for someone else

A beautiful box
Placed on her pillow
Engraved with
His constant promises;
Coated with
His golden rules.

A small latch
Keeps something inside.

Her finger’s loving touch
Breach an opening;
Scent of escape flees.

Gold falls as dust
Engravings fade as vapor;
A beating heart
Revealed inside nestled
Within his written note
That reads:

*“I’m sorry.”

A simple invitation,
written in prose,
fearful that the quiet voice
would disrupt the words;
the ambient light of candles
elevated their courting desires.

They tasted decadence
upon the plates,
flavors of the unexpected
were thoughtful and deliberate;
the night’s delights dripped with joy
despite the absence of the moon.

The candor of sweet desserts,
slices of memorable moments;
the pieces of lingering satisfaction
on their lips.

She felt the poet’s heart
and wanted to touch his soul.

The chill of a foreboding moment,
He feels the night
Casting shades of fear
Within a tearful mind.
Cadence of history
Bringing an end
To his serenity;
A quiet calamity chained
Within his heart.
His spirit despising
The chime of midnight.

Wishing, for one night,
The motion of time
Would simply hold still.