Once in a while
I move through you
spreading my arms
as though they were wings
hoping your sweet scent
will carry me far, far away

You are the one
un-remembered
that sweeps through me like a storm
a gust leaving scorch marks
on the cusp of sense and in-sense
Until you stop
on the tip of my tongue
a shape made of mists
waiting to be exhaled
and dissolve into thin air

And as you die down
I die out
My arms drop off
like spiraling autumn leaves
and the chill of sobriety grabs hold
condemning me
to life