I grind the words unspoken

Between blood stained teeth

And spit apologies into empty glasses.

On my bedside table

I stack a pile of ashes,

All that’s left of promises unkept

And unfulfilled dreams.

Your touch was like the Philharmonic,

Now a distant memory in time

As fleeting as your scented flame.

I burn myself on fading embers

And trace my eyes in obsidian dust

Leaving prints from fingertips

That you will never find again.