Just last night,
we disrobed our senses to the gush of rain
and a trembling heater: stars bathing contours
through a dance of flames as we explored
soft rhythm between our curved hands
travelling with shadows of a full moon aglow
from the eyes of a window sill.
And we spoke of eternity
while waiting for candles to melt our floor,
reading the waxed shapes
like Vedic sutra of prophecy.
I awoke from your early leaving to find
a note on my lampshade, gently
professing more nights, the fifth,
it seems, of dream-like pleasure.
Then you were gone.
Later this morning,
after soaking in thrilled afterglow, blithe steps
carried me to the hallway where our eyes
met accidentally. You were clothed in my
oversized unisex tee,
while the hint of blank look crossed over
my transparent face; pale smile breezing away
as if I were a stranger without a tag.
My breath stopped ticking with visions
of dark magic from evening’s moon,
candles and window sills: you turned
away as a fog unaware of my pang.
Dear life, how I break.
Last Night... This Morning Contest
by nette onclaud