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Image for the poem The Last Candle

The Last Candle



[She wore I love yous like cheap lipstick]  
 
 
November's exile  
feels like a cosmic rendering
of self-serving immunity.
 
The obliteration of emotional depth  
is imminent in the shallows.  
 
The rain returned as promised.  
 
To unhinge from reality and its tasteless virtue,  
I excuse myself from the vulgar feast
then lean from the shadows  
to blow out the last candle.
 
I trace my fingers along
the darkness of forgotten words
between lovers, written a long time ago -
I tumble inside that starless night,
marooning myself within  
the semiotic musings and moon-spun trysts
only to reverse the river for my pleasure of unfeigned lust.  
 
 
[And there is where she carved the omen in her own image]
 
 
I know what lonely feels like.
 
 
2015 blue angel
Artwork by Andrew Atroshenko
blue_angel
Written by blue_angel
Published | Edited 28th Dec 2015
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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