We were driving into utter sunsets that
make no sense
apart from nothingness and
our sterile memories
the temple rocks were blazing
in the dying sun
and the gods were so
desperately sad
that they were silent and
serene ever so
like your heartbreaking
going away.
The magic of moments runs into
these years that have made
another you.
No letters drop in our
cubby holes as I drag my
listless feet
high up and down the cobwebs
of fuzzy memories.
I write the word nuances
in my nothingness diaries and
fervently pray for yet another
millennium that might
change the order
of things for a better you.
The fever of the night
collecting in molten
drops across your face
wondrous and white
and black-blue kohl-lit eyes
burning like the reserved
anguish of centuries
of celibacy.