the world is cold and dead yet she bri(n)gs all back to life

all the color bled
to run down the gutters
a technicolor swirl
of brittle prayers
left unheard as the stars
fall one by one
slowly darkening an
already dimly lit
sense of forevermore
she smiles at me
her seraphic beauty
a balm upon
my anxious soulslurry
the brown in her eyes
the pink of her lips
the spun gold of her hair
a shock to the senses
as she glides
her feet never quite
touching the ground
and i hold my breath
memorizing every
ounce of her perfection
in case the gray
seeks to overwhelm
i can cling to her
the only vivid soul
in pulsating heartmurmurs
left on this dead rock
hurtling through space

Leave a comment