Her royal entrance is my own undoing
Watching her pace belie the ebb-indefinite
Snap-madness of her gait-way creates an
Allowance for such motion of flight

Where I’ve become a mute
A mere walk-on within her play a
Theater with no lines to speak
Only lavender movement and blocking

That feels cast aside by her glance as
I am reminded of the fallout love we once
Gathered inside the upstaged wings of silver light
A duotone of bastard amber and daylight blue

Emulating Life once more across a
Doorway transporting me to dreams of us:
May I touch your face once more?
Gently kiss your forehead beside the

Blackness of time’s open dream-way
Coalesced before my eyes like the munition
Of my loneliness and abandoned life?
Catered but not served in this house of ours

Lies the same doorway and exit of entrance to
A path of undiscovered ecstasy
Divinity casting its last rays of sundown on
My own undoing,
my own undoing . . .
 
 
© K. James Ribble