Éphémère

In the flickering of candlelight,

Of thoughts so warm and vacant,

We stumble through hypotheses,

Of the universe and vagrants.

.

The sharpest brush of skin

Whispers against mine,

In the blue hour before nightfall -

In the twilight time:

.

An arena of stars that play

To the moon and absent sun;

We share one breath, one movement,

Two entities merged and gone:

.

A peninsula of trepidation,

And your words are warning signs –

We trace the edges of clouds,

And maps without colours or lines.

.

Dust swirls with my words,

And settles in your touch.

Our concepts become too much.

.

And here in the blue hour,

Of moving shadows,

And darkness deep as wells.

Here is where I love you.


The title is French for 'ephemeral' - so, transient, or fleeting. Thank you for reading, and as always, I'd love to know your thoughts.

Eleantris :)