army of smoke

The cat is gone. Every bag is empty. Something clings to the air, a whisper, a spark. The dark eyes are watching it all in the dark. Where do you suppose the magic is lost? Why would physics even want to remark?

The miracle was rote, taken in tablets. The fall was broken before gravity ever took. The simplicity of a flame is not in smoke but in the burn. The remnants of every promise dissolved slowly on that tongue. Speak aloud, while I am here to hear it. Speak to me before doubt dispels us all.

This is the moment while there is breath left us. This is the clouds as they move among the stars. The stretch of ache, the warmth of forgetting. All of this left, to turn and smolder. The way the world turns with the worm. The way everything once measured is cut. Look to the sky, the rest will be easy. Watch the stars shift to the wind through your soul.