The avenue’s wide open.
Streetlamps caress you in their glow;
I watch you twirl in their embrace.

“Are you not cold? I’m yours to hold, come close to me”
I watch you spin, atop a mirror…
As the world ends you spin, little doll…

I still feel your breath in those seconds between
closing my eyes and falling asleep.
I’m on my back next to you -
there's jasmine in bloom
and our fingers intertwined.

A sky full of diamonds, so precious and clean.
Each star that you wish on is just out of reach.

The wind begins to sing high in the trees tonight:
A melody so cold—-

A doorway hangs open.
You wear the sad dress of the moon and snow.
Two shining lines run down your face…

“Are you not cold my dear? I’m still yours to hold, come here to me”
Watch you spin, the sky turns silver - 
I think I hear a whisper of spring…

I hold my breath, til it slips out of me.
You created such beautiful things
before sadness consumed the magic that bloomed
deep within your lovely mind…

Snow-covered branches at the top of the trees—-
just like skeletal fingers beckoning me 
to relinquish everything into that freezing white.

I spread my wings so wide…

(of sadness I can not speak, for fear of it swallowing me.)