Quietus

perfume hangs in fragrant breaths upon the shimmering air of a silent, moonlit eve... like the gentle stir of a dampened soul, an unlit cigarette rises to meet waiting lips- a soft flame follows close behind... cool breezes dance and flit about as bridges burn, enough to light this fragile path upon which i return with casual step and empty glance... ashes given to the wind will glimmer somehow to pretend that they are snowflakes, drift, descend, a softer image to defend... the flesh of unblushing cheeks await beguiling touches, this is our Fate... i shall reach one distant hand toward your passing skin, unsure of where i stand, without or still within, knowing only whispers that ride the winter wind... reflections come and go much the same as i, someday perhaps i'll not return, along with bridges i will burn forgotten in a moment's sigh... our songs are simple and sad, and like the dreams i once had, they pass away... even so i can smile if only faintly when you pass by, and inhale forever the fragrant air when you have long since left it there... these things are easy visions to behold, the desperate feel of winter's cold upon the tears i quietly shed in moments when the flames are dead and only fragile husks remain where bridges once led to the pain, this lonely path i slowly tread will lead me on to love again. Written October 3rd, 2001 © on Oct 03 2001 06:06 AM PST, jc mcgee   0 • 1