Exeunt

Whispered smoke
fills lungs short of breath,
the words still warm,
a byproduct
of the fire within
now withheld.

Time was,
those falling cinders
of fluttering eyelashes
would scar my breast
where you would rest
a head too weary
to look away
from the destination
our lives were bound.

Now my world cools,
and the flames
no longer lick
limbs that fuel
covetous concepts.

All is darker
than this evening
of changing light,
shading fears
that await the fall
of consuming shadows,
and tomorrows debt
left forfeit,
for yesterdays pain.