Glissading

Backsliding,  
I caught Your cold
sneezed  thousands
of butterfly wings
into simmering  
celestial coals
of love everlasting
past over
past out
passed
 
Green and grayish red
ashes of a coronal
relationship  
like a wiccan candle
burning itself out
in lieu of being snuffed
 
(at least I don’t have  
that type of closure to
contend with)
 
an amorous odor
of solid friendship
remains in  
my  backdrop
deflected from  
a full moon or 2
ago
hope and solace
among flora and fauna
Faeries and elementals
In Gaia’s keep
 
Dancing,  
my Ghosting partner
and me in our ballroom’d
forest’d floor
 
thereupon reposed healing. . .