…like shattered glass

Promises of forever
secrets whispered upon the wind
I remember your hands, warm in mine
a finger tracing a line down my spine, turning me to fire
your words like fine wine, falling, but not yet fallen
in the stark reality of hindsight
I now see you, the wolf in sheep’s clothing
the stranger behind the mask
the virtuoso, weaving your lies
through the fragile threads of truth
I remember the day that you left
I was broken like shattered glass
dreams revealed as a world of illusions
smoke and mirrors, a trick of the light
now alone in the aftermath, falling, and fallen at last
the winter snow is falling with me, soft against my skin
cold and distant as your heart in this desolate place
captured by the spell you once cast
and the lingering ghost of you
your music still haunts me
© Ann Bagnall