a stellar smashing

The clouds tore themselves open.
The sky steeled itself for the cold.
The sun dropped to its knees at the edge of the earth, and it snowed.

She cried, and her tears froze, crystalline.

A cold breath, sharp in her throat.
A match was struck, a flame took, amber burned at her lips.
Rush of menthol, heat slipping into her veins, a relief far too fragile to dilute despair.

Another cigarette, a nicotine savior.
Another tear, another sob, another heart broken, another love choked.

The snow falls still. Pure and white and clean, it falls to the dirty earth.
It clouds the lamplight, muffles the sound of the train creaking by over her head.
It blankets the hurt, but doesn’t heal.

(11-29-07)