The last bit of an evening

             One more dance. One more breeze to chill the
midnight, roaring sun. Holding upon a moonlight dream,
I do. Ah such tender words of sap begin to unwind.
Clarity becomes a bit of a haze as the stars glimmer in
a misty room.

            Holding onto the hope of one more swirl, one
more look of mischief that will graze upon my laughter.
Ah how I do so hope. Alas, perhaps, a moment of
silliness but it is mine to hold.

           Standing partially against a wall of textured
stone and bit on leaning iron towers. Still I remain
until the coldness soaks deep into the rattling bones.
So deep I quake with purple hues.

           Ah a tender sigh escapes the ever darkening
rose lips. Glancing once more into the sky, I push
back and whisper a soft thank you.

           Oh I know my Father, Jehovah heard me. So to
a dear friend: did you gain a moment in the
moonlit, darkening navy sky?

          Hmm so clear are stormy grays. Holding onto the
tiniest of cinched waists. Clearly the necessity to be
warm is there, yet the desire to feel cold is greater.
To be poured from what is pulling.

           Indeed, take that breath of air upon your
own charge. Feel the raging ice sting your lungs.
Enjoy for the few seconds as the smile takes hold.

         Standing only for a few seconds longer, I hope
that one tie is still there. One bond is still strong.

         Today isn't the day to ask. I recognize that.
So here is one more day I get to learn. One more
stained memory I get to breathe. Ah the simplicity
I get behold in Jehovah's majestic creativity.

         Yes, now I dream in warmth of silk and cotton.
Weighing a smile across my freckled face.

        A single sentence I whisper in before I slip into
sleep.

         A good night, I pray you have, dear one, dear friend.