Its Last Beat


Her spirit so tender but her soul

aged like warm whiskey,
Slipping down her throat,

like the words, like a streak of fire
swallowed in the night.

She pulls herself out, pushed to desire
the diamonds in her mind, her eyes still catching light.

She runs her fingers through her hair to her waist,
the only sound is the clock ticking on the wall
laying beside her tonight,

touching her leather, falling into the lace,
Her mind takes it all in,

under the stars she breathes again.

Like the air that stills the quaking leaves,
there’s a calm when the storm in her ceases.
Her fingertips barely touch the ghost,

she gathers drops of the life left in her blood.
Her hands grasping what she cannot let go…

love never remembers wrongs,

only every good

She digs her nails into the sheet,

her heart beating its last beat,.

Time has weathered her gently,

under the moon as old as the rainbow,

and when the wind does blow,

it whispers a memory

only eternity would know



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