Le Souffle Interdit
Passions bubble over because that is what passion is designed to do.
In a park,
green with laughter,
messages fluttered like wind
through a half-open window.
Pizza and pinstripes,
Songs of mandatory listening,
His reply was—
half heart, half shield.
Then the hours slipped.
One by one,
buttons loosened on the coat of decorum.
Her words lit matches.
His let them burn.
They spoke in hush-toned fire,
names wrapped in silk,
desire folded into metaphors
just bold enough to be true.
He was there.
All pulse, all thought,
tethered to a screen
like a soul waiting for a body.
A hitching silence scared her.
She asked 'why aren’t you here,'
and something inside him stood up
and he whispered 'I am'.
A chapel in those messages,
lit by forbidden candles.
She prayed in his voice.
He traced poetry in hers.
And now,
morning tastes like euphoria and worry,
like longing with no passport.
A dream that kisses your eyelids
then vanishes in daylight.
But still, they keep it—
the quiet ache,
the dangerous treasure,
the night that almost
became a life.
#poetry #confession #osxs #reflection #essay #memoir #journal #100daystooffset #writing
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Thank you for coming here and walking through the garden of my mind. No day is as brilliant in its moment as it is gilded in memory. Embrace your experience and relish gorgeous recollection.
Into every life a little light will shine. Thank you for being my luminance in whatever capacity you may. Shine on, you brilliant souls!
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