Word Sketch

I sit in clouds,

     Painting the landscape of memory with words, Former days of glory & hope, Barely recognizable far off in the distance, Scattered by the constant migraine of the silent swell of death's exile, Fading out of life's beautiful stream, I was but a pebble in the vast sea of humanity, At least for a short while, Her eyes held my feeble form as friend & lover.

    Jade green carved figurines set within the scene of her orbital eyes, Stare deep into the constellation to get lost in the mystery of her face, A pale serene structure at the top of her majestic form a riveting delight to get lost while intertwined in love, No sooner alter the Re-Maker's plot of her smile than loose fingers sense of touch as they ripple over her skin, The prowess of all art could not adore justice enough to qualify a description of her design, The All Father had it in for my heart that glorious fated night.

     In a magical parade of historical shame I admit my loss, As I sit here amidst the clouds intoxicated by mere flash backs into time of her memory.

In earnest anticipation of,
VoT