Whispy drafts of her forlorn cares,
amplified
by a roiling beckoning
of fractured heart and vacant dreams.
Having streamed her anger
like a bitter sap,
I recoil at the vapid sting
which dresses my mouth
like a ruby curse.
An alabaster prison.
A darkened glimpse.
A broken longing.
A slender curve torn by
a passing glance.
Stay.