Catherine

Was thinking of someone, wanted to capture it

She set hair on my forearms alight,

Catherine. She walks by, her ears

Sharp, her smile devilishly cold,

Her eyes lacked any conviction,

Her soul seemed to lack a fire

To breathe burning light into them.

Those stone cold grays. I almost

Didn’t remember when I looked

At her. She seemed to be stone 

Herself. And I flame that dared

To consume her.

Perhaps we think the same, she and

I, We are too cold, in need of fire to

See.

I spoke, hoping my voice was familiar.

She turned, her eyes warming, Excitement 

Jumping through her being, closing the

Distance. 

She floated to me, coming back down

To the ground, for just a little while, laid

Her head onto my shoulder, snuggling her

Nose into my neck.

Then we were the statue that is devoid 

Of living breath, though entombed in 

The timelessness of singular momentary

Meaning, splitting quickly into

Nothingness. That was my love for her,

Now and always, still then, still now,

Still always, even if all we are 

Is nothingness.

Author's Note

Feedback is good.