A pillar holds up the room where candles on the dinner table descended to a lower fume.
Where a woollen rug discontinues the long planks of the wooden floor.
In front of the fire place, together drinking the finest wine.
Melted into each other staring at the dance of flames.
Moonlight shares his reflection though the glass of the minute glass meeting us on the soft cushion.
Marks
appear in a language silent unheard. Silent whispered as the summer breeze.
A room where both exist between the walls.
Wooden planks curl up like fingered toes, when the rain torments and washes the chairs against the wall.
Painfully
holding onto against the current it swept me away.
Holding on to the drenched woollen cushion, drowning.
All alone dripping from the rain looking upon the moonlight ray.
..
The pillar wobbles
..
Sipping on his 7-shilling pipe.
In self-proclaimed protest to life.
She had told him, had given him, had promised him.
…..
What sensation to choose from the long rollercoaster, flipping upside down in the corkscrew drowning himself in wine.
Stations past observing the moonlight flickering the neon light announcements on the boards.
Light fades in the tunnelling view of the mens mind.
Water drips from the eyelids when the train makes a sudden halt.
Rewarded with the gift from behind the colourful wrapping, undone from the ribbon carefully crafted.
Is the gift of thankfulness.
Appreciation on the path that shows a slow road,
Halted by everything it holds, mesmerized by the tree that lets the moss grow on his trunk.
Dawn breaks, water is the deepest hue of aquamarine of the clouds, white shattered in millions.
Choosing the right of lemons sours but sweet on the bite lingering to salvation.
Grown in the perfect sun a sour bite for the true achievement.
Out of reach casted under the spell, under that what the cauldron had to brew.
On minds love, screaming for desire.