When nights cool
Dying day in grey light
hued sky on bruised lips,
enlightened by a flicker-
finger traced around lines of laughter.
Pause, anticipation of steady breath,
in moment post-heat,
where words are void
but silence sings vividly
sending shivers down supine spine.
Darkness undresses, gets into bed
warming buried bones,
languidly the lips brush, explore,
rekindle a phoenix flame
in these ashen nights, that grew so cold.