The fall of the
      L'Heure Bleue,
the sweet lights, Brandenburg Gate,
awaiting human kisses,
a Midas touch,
kiss & tell
lipstick stains,
good girl gone bad,
Her,
heart & soul,
    written,
in a silver,
    streak,
of embellished ink
Each morning, crossing
horizons,
dawn to sunrise,
the photographers
'sweet light'
sunset to dusk
No full daylight, or
darkness,
sunlight only illuminating,
scattering skies
Paris, & Rome
the Colosseum, & the Eiffel Tower,
strike fire & flowers
This blue hour, shapeshifters
black Alexander ****, &
Saint Laurent's elaphe snakeskin,
tainted pumps
The darker side, of
feminine mystique,
fire wood skies fade
Her,
ghost remains
She,
travels her own mind.

© Sia Jane