Cinders rotting in the hearth.
Love bit back with toxic teeth.
Created toxic tears.

Two autobiographical memories.
Captured from history.
In poetic communiques.

Sad souls released at last.
To dance with angels.
Have a blast.
A last breath of air.
Fresh and clear.
To share with the one that she holds dear.

Hold him close.
Hold him near.
Make him aware.
He need have no fear.
All she has left are toxic tears.
And in them she drowns.
By ladylivvi1