a sliver of a glimmer of a light
amidst the deep and deafening abyss
That, in the dark, proclaims it is the night
that blows about the flames of candles past
and drowns in memory in the wake of sight;
And though your lips were never made to last,
their touch is fire on a frantic shore
new-washed with salt, and trembling in the gust.
Their blaze is dim, and longing asks for more,
but, smiling, has to be content with this
to guide me through the torrent and the pour-
Amidst the deep and deafening abyss,
A whisper of a flicker of a kiss.