Flames

She remembered the heat of his touch through the thin cotton sheets. Gentle, kind, gauging.
And she remembered the cool metal against her chest, slightly towards the left.
He could hear the beating of her heart- wild, terrified and befuddled
So could she, as she lay stunned by the rippling surge of pleasure that filled her body.

But the moment didn't last.

And nothing could save her from the one that followed.

As the nameless happiness left, in its wake came a jolting realization. The nostalgia for what she'd just lost and what she'd never gain.

He left her ward with his wide back towards her, as she caught a final glimpse of his white coat vanishing behind the door.

He could see her.

She couldn't.

Wouldn't.

Never again will she look in the mirror and smile.

She cried softly, for the girl she'd lost.

For her smooth skin that now remained charred.

She remembered the heat of it's touch- burning, malicious, ravenous.
And she remembered the searing cloth clinging to her face, slightly towards the left.

She sighed, fanning the fire ever more.

Sound of the Unspoken

Held in my hands, I have

A chalice full of truth:

Ripples of denial, 

Or tears of purest Ruth?

The faces that float across,

Vanish moments before,

The bubbles rise to the surface,

The words have lost their source.

My mind - woven into the drapes,

That separate the two worlds alive :

One of misery, the other of light,

Permeation deprived.

And I hold the chalice of truth

Spoken by voiceless beings,

Heard by cold, passive hearts,

In throngs, loneliness gleams.