gray drops under a magenta moon

manic under a magenta moon, the stars in the sky aren’t familiar, can’t get my bearings, baring myself to an alien moon, spilling all of my secrets to another dimension, out of synch

she tracks sand into the house, perfect footprints from the back door through the kitchen, the ball of her foot and heel clear in the azure distillation of setting suns spilling across the bay

it amazes me how she seems to glide, not walk, when she enters the room, how my heart speeds up everytime she enters my mind like a shot of adrenaline straight through my breastbone

my blood looks gray as it falls in a steady stream onto the tile floor, i don’t know if it is the lighting or the unstemmable tide, i don’t care either, it is so cold in this room, at least the thundering is quieting

i wish she were here, one last time to track sand as she glides over to place her full lips upon my, to take my fleeting breath away one last time, as the room blurs i can see her footprints in gray move away

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