Desperation

Desperation.
Etched into my skin I feel your warmth.
I breath your pungent musky smell.Almost tasting your cigarette and coffee I lurch forward, trying to grab for a keepsake.

Remembrance flooding from your eyes.
Falling deeper, like pools of confusion.
Grasping. Failing. I finally sink. Realizing the gap between the vale of purity and destruction.

Titters Form Petals.

As if with every tap a butterfly pulls itself from her fingertips.

Surrounded by a globe of light, secure.  Bubbling with titters and chortle.
Petals drift down and form a path.
Creating a scene of golden bliss in a broken, singed labyrinth.
She drapes her memories with liveliness.

Despite their drab inner feature, exuberance come with.
Alone, not so sure, happy, all the more a bore.
She carves her path, labyrinth or more.

A fool's paradise her only cornerstone.
Up in arms with her spent moments.
Petals still floating to the floor.
She carves her path, labyrinth or more.