Bittersweet Symphony

The chill of the night
follows the stranger in
hiding in his coat like a secret
before she crosses the threshold
she encloses her fingers in her fist
preparing for the sting

she sighs deeply
reaches for the fire in her pocket
in an open palm
she holds the life-line of a world
long before her existence
how tame it seems
encased in initialed silver
she knows its true nature,
the beauty of its wildness-
a fine line between heat and destruction

she lights a cigarette
watches as the menthol air
forms a perfect stream
between parted lips
then disassembles-
a lonely cloud turning in on itself
disappearing
slowly, slowly
into blackness

she thinks of the Girl she never knew
the Woman She became
the years between
the infinite moments she could not choose
she knows what could have been
the cruelty of time
wets her eyelashes
the game of the hours laughs at her
laughs at her heart
four valves
a thousand pieces
still it beats
to the rhythm of its Captor
it beats to the rhythm of
a loving Smile
water blue Eyes
coveted Hands
her heart beats to the rhythm of
a Name
she had just learned
the Name she whispers like a prayer

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