D.K. SHEPARD

Silent disco is a misnomer

Even when you take the headset off

And the music in your ears disappears

The sounds do not

After our goodbye, that’s when it appeared.

Barely noticed at first, floating gray wisps,

Cumulonimbus it became, lightning,

Darkening, should have been alarmed, wasn’t.

Laying with my head pressed against your chest

Each thump of your heart echoes in my mind

Handsome even with paint on your nose

Your plan to spice up our pale walls

With tangerine polka dots

Now we’ve both spilled onto the floorboards.

Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.

I tried to keep the cold from seeping in

But it slipped through the cracks I couldn't seal

Gray blossoms burst, almost substance,

before they float too high above.

A day intended for celebration

Now may be a day doomed for infamy

Started off with a lark's head knot

Birds of a feather, so we thought

Artist, at your core

So smoothly you con

It out, secrecy,

“What’s wrong?” you ask, giving your drink a swirl,

stirring things up again. “Nothing,” I say.