What are stars really?
but collapsed massive dust-clouds
under their own gravity
Three black candles
Five dead roses to conceal a secret
Seven songs, a drum beat and a long silence
Amelia’s eyes follow
the swirl of smoke provoked by the lit candles
Thirteen memories repeated ad libitum
A hundred and one hours to ponder a fixation
Amelia’s left hand feels
the touch of nostalgia conjured by the silence
Seventy one chants of an imaginary ritual
thirty-seven untold promises
two tears and a smile
What is this really?
but collapsed obsessive thoughts
under their own passion
Today’s theme at dVerse is community. The prompt got me writing about a semi-ethereal one.