Untitled

Untitled

Wisps of smoke,
curling around and around,
in the air,
escaping from pink lips.

A breath of fresh air,
moonbeams shining,
onto slender fingers,
damaged but not broken.

Embers drifting,
ash falling,
chaotic and yet,
soothing.

Stars twinkling,
in and out,
existing and not,
sparkling like crystals.

A spark,
in the dark,
brings light,
from a flame.

Fire dancing,
gypsy-like in smoke,
life manifest,
in a candle.

Time goes on,
with a tick,
and a tock,
steady and regular.

A natural feeling,
brought about simply,
unnatural healing,
complex and life-giving.

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: