.

It’s 10 o’clock
I can tell by the silence invaded by counting the ticks
It is all I have these days
dusty shelves,
tattooed with remnants
of a season filled with caterpillars, butterflies
knick-knacks of pyramids and crystal hope

I write my name in what was
Reminding me I must someday clean
But for now I cannot touch those empty spaces
They define me

There was a time
I existed
I even lived
I drank the wine, getting giddy with the sensory
the swirls of ecstasy in browns, blush and red
phantom fingers breaking the barrier of flesh
merging the equinox

It started when neon faded
behind the vision
and all else remains dull compared to
that first look
first touch
first kiss
 
I knew I was lost
and found at the moment
of transference 
when words no longer became useful
for description

Even now, expression eludes me
as feeble exclamations
pass lips
once quenched by fountains
now just shelves,
mere placeholders
waiting
to once again drink
and wash away the dust