We sat in the evening twilight,..next to each other on your cushioned loveseat built for two,..your eyes were vast plutonic mirrors of crimson reflected into the eternal abyss. The dark shades of motherhood,...the forgiving spectrum of forbidden procreation presented an ongoing theme throughout the night . Our neighborhood courtship kindled the long awaited spark that ignited the far off fahrenheit of lattitudes.
Your name rhymed with love,... in the heat of the marble that assembled you parents mantle above the deserted fireplace of centuries. Your childhood photo albums has stained a permanent void into my psyche and membrane. The chiseled marrow that rubs to the side of my withered bone structure. Medieval,...your countenace lingers ancient and timeless,...to withdrawl your charming expression,...too deep into the weak moments of daylight. Tea and cofee spoons.,...macadamian nuts,..or crumbling macaroons.
The raw flesh sharpens as you chew away at your lower lip,...through the tired stress of your endless afternoons. The make-up you use to assemble your feminine face and charachteristics has taken it's toll among the living. The primitive transactions along your cycle of days. The rage you experience in the fatigue of your vague routines. How mindless the days transpire?,..
Then onto a sphere that holds no recollection of you or what you become.,...it is as if it never was,..nor meant to be,...all your actions were practiced in vein. The decomposition that age brings to your soul and your esteem. Resign your breathing love,...someone will be there to pick up where you left off.
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