the girl in red with the silver shoes

the smoke billows and dissolves,
swallowed by the evening air.
it is cool tonight, he thinks
as the breeze tangles his hair
playfully. the bench is cold beneath me,
winter can stay away,
that’s all i say.
at least this smoke warms me.

he ponders.
brow furrowed, micro mountains
drizzled with sweaty streams,
pulsating at his heart’s jive.
the red dress, those silver shoes –
they glint and glimmer, sliding over marble floors
with unnatural ease
her voice plays in his head
echoing down the empty corridors
carpeted with russian red regrets.
he pinches his skin.
the cigarette is crushed under his heavy boot
the party over
yet the music is still singing
it will always sing for me.
accompanying her silver dance, the swirl of her skirt
whipping out of reach
his cold fingers reach out
tremble and snatch back, a fist to his chin.
the poisoned taste scrapes his teeth.

the quiet screams out.
take me back, he clenches to Time,
take me back.
in every puff he sees her move.

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