Quadrille 117

You,
clawed 
as dragon fruit

There can be no aubade,
no gentle lifting
the morning light

Paring back sheets
like skin of soft plums
to abide this leaving

Only
the heart of fire
like the sun 

In my palm
burns just to say
goodbye 

11 thoughts on “Quadrille 117”

1. Ohhhhhhh.
   **she swoons**

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   1. Lolol!

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2. Luscious.

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3. Loved the reference to the dragon and the heart of fire. Always amazing gbit!

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   1. Thank you!

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4. I imagine a hand over the heart in their chest, trying to keep it from bursting. Beautiful poem, qbit.

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   1. Thank you!

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      1. You’re welcome.

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5. Romantic (see fainting couch)!

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   1. LOLOL! Thanks!

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      1. 😊

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