Morning after.

The fragrance of the night past still lingers on
the struggling silences bursting at the seams,
talking to lazy sunbeams
jealous of the painful beauty and my complete lack of attention

Ethereal wraith, you rise and my spirits follow
even before my first wave of emotion has been ridden
to the hilt, faced the bullets, senses forbidden
pleasures lying there, spent shells, though not forever hollow.

Memories, filtered and crystallized
reluctant drops of mercury register the latent heat
as my mind walks forgotten chemical streets
you return with fiery spheres of ice

Quench.