She makes my cheeks blush violet
with her indifference,

while I stand 
on the bones of our history

Old Gloria and I was the light of times-

times
 past.

Summer was a night,
 a night that used to pay for her own ride home
and 
I would lie begging at her feet 

My jar hadn’t caught but one breath and

she disappears down the winding road
heading south 

All pink faded, 

my complexion turned an icy tone,

as the car exhaust rose into the midnight sky

It’s judging million eyes

blinking back at me as a gentle reminder:

not all things that are glow 
are 

still 
alive