i love the stillness of midnights.
silent ruffles drunk on sadness
setting off; a firestorm of
consumed by poetry
I teeter beyond the walls of
what do I do of the keepsakes?
i simply bury them
in the stillness of midnights
at the exact middle of overskies
just there, dug up in precision
the dimensions of the grave
not an inch less
not an inch more
positioned under the bougainvillea
cause mistletoes are meant for lovers
and we weren’t lovers;
the midnight and I.
I am participating in NaPoWriMo 2021. 30 days. 30 Poems.
Picture Credit – Annie Spratt