You trickle out like marmalade,
In fields of skies we lie-- hand in hand,
Dancing pirouettes that lace pungent fingers forth;
Left with seeking eyes,
Beyond your prisms fire-- that breaks;
Inhaling, exhaling to the rhythms that thump,
So loudly in my chest-- crashing,
Like amber waves upon a rocky shoreline;
Fickle, finely stitched-- potpourri primroses;
Hear you-- somewhere deep inside;
Thump, thumping-- strangling the very physical being;
The emotional waste-basket-- dying;
Tragically, peacefully, slowly;
Drowning for the butterfly-- over my body,
Wasting away for dimly lit smiles;
I hear you-- in the pit of memory,
I hear you-- no more.
©Ashley Leslie 2013
