Friday, June 17, 2011


Something of you still remains,
refusing to exit,
like a fading stain of accidental encounters,
in echoes lurching forward in voiceless nightmares,
in uncertain ellipsis of unfinished conversations,
in shed skins  lying across my path
warning fangs of intolerance
snaked by,
in the first fallen leaf of autumn,
dancing death shrouding
your decaying promises
of my eternal spring,
in those hanging pebbles weighing down
frail wings of my escaping flight,
in the pieces of my rotting heart
lying like dead remains
of suicidal moths,
incinerated trust of
yesterday’s blinding love.

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