Laid berth upon a glacial cavity.
Frigid wisps, bowling the moon
in a glare of icy defeat.
In a daze, my heart is laid waste
and a finger of coolness trails
a silver line within my soul.
So I cry your name, 'Evening!'
But only the howls of the wind,
hiding away in a nearby crevice.
The answer does not soothe me.
And I seek a higher place,
that lonely place I long for.
To see your eyes. To know
the memory of you.
So I lay here, my breath slowing,
each laboured puff the image
of a butterfly, winging it's way
to the stars.
Then coldness. Your dead lips meet
mine, and my bloodshot eyes close...
to be taken away by an ocean of
empty regrets, and the fear you
will not be there when I arrive.
©spilvenr
S