Evenings waste away to shattered dreams of fidelity in dark corners with kisses so far removed from familiarity. Though strangely familiar it may seem, as though another like had drifted upon an existence you once knew before, now squandered and left barren by new love and life the same. In an instant, time plays hours in minutes though only minutes pass, as they tend to, in hours. To enter the barren life of darkened rooms and breathe new life into a stranger’s kiss may all but stand between Heaven and Hell; a graceful damnation.
Faces blurred and beyond meaning where love’s inventions spite nature and rise to another sort of flaming spirit against candlelit corners of sin where truth is lost in darkness; the core of the apple’s eye laid lifeless upon soiled mattresses heaped upon secrets of a past no one will ever find but in wasted evenings of indifference, far removed from familiarity where I lie holding you to me.
© – Anthony Leclair 2013