Sparks fly wildly,
igniting everything
air and breath.
The inferno rages up my arms
and blazes below my skin,
breaking the fire line.
Our love could never be
a controlled burn.
Hot breath against my ear,
feather touches,
skin to skin.
I turn to kiss you
but your image fades,
lost to the hands of time,
spinning us
into a descent uncontrollable.
You are mirage and phantom,
smoke and ghosts.
We are but memories
instead of people,
weightless in the wicked carnival
that love created
before it devoured us whole.
My hands ache
to take your pain
but they glide through you
like mist,
forgetting you are only
an apparition.
I hold on to the beauty
and bury myself in the pain.
Love–such a sweet catastrophe.


5 thoughts on “Catastrophe

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