Temptresses
Love does not extinguish,
it lights other candles,
the birth of new flames,
glow with faces from the past.
Red veiled memories
flirt with the future.
My fingers are burned,
trying to touch something
that isn’t there.
Time is a temptress
and I’m caught
trying to slip off
the dress of her illusion.
I’m caught
with lips on her body
trying to taste yesterdays
and hands trying to find tomorrows.
In the end,
I measure my life
and my death
by her.
I’ll leave
whispers tangled in her breath,
so when you make her moan,
you’ll hear my name.