The back of my face felt the little shimmer
that the breeze brought along,
a little intimacy with the brightened night
and the shadows echoed of a terror
of fighting to live that night again
when moments were peaceful and memory had fear
to never find it again,
to never be the same.
The dust was gone, back inside,
into the crevices it crouched ahead of
to shower down and bring on blight
of a time it never had forever.
And destitution was another side of that tragedy
that the night brought forth towards me,
of a time we wished as lost
and found it in something uncalmly still.
I had the shiver deep in my veins,
around the flutter of the cooling peck
that kept on pushing into my skin and pass through that space
that parted tranquility from transcendence.
In that moment, the waters were crying to fly out,
towards the sparkles that pleaded to shout,
in that moment, the lights came down
and the breeze was all that was left.
·poetry