The Fragrance of Doubt

Spins the floor that is marked by her feet. Her mind sober, yet her heart weeps. Soldiers of rejection line her vision, a confrontation not quite ready for. An extended invitation; so badly did she want to shred, yet her fragile loneliness told her otherwise. Once a vessel filled with flowers, her heart now shriveled like fruit in heat. She missed the passion behind the silent stares, sometimes dragging on for mile stretches. The stench of his disposition lingering on, with no sight of honest closure. With slender hope, she pushes forward with her back toward the darkened day.