Unknowingly

You will not see my dust of pain grating in wild clouds behind the car as I leave. Sunset spills last rites on faded thought that summer’s heat would hold me here, tepid in your arms, unable to resist the haze of discord you had placed exactly here and there, already certain of my fall. Rearview masks your distant wounded pride from sight, yet once the dust is settled new upon your shoes and empty heart, as sunset bleeds away to follow me, you will wonder if the crimson streaks across the sky are mine.