I plant my last kiss

on the wall of mausoleum,

and turn back to face the

inevitable transparency.

Like a birthmark―

you stick to me for an eternity.

Honeyed tongue swaps

a blue. I am not a path,

only a candle in the wind.

Moon-washed your face

swims in my black eyes.

I search my genes

in you, for an answer.

In poetic jargon, with

broken wings, I take a flight

to that horizon, where

my aura ends and your spell begins.

Blameless-you spin,

and break into hundred of shards.

They become stars. I remain

stranded at sunset.