A New Charm

He shall await my every fortune, 

the scratch on the paving stone  

turned to dust.  

Gentle breeze blows 

and the rustle of hair 

fills the caplet, 

leaving grasses bumbling their way 

to the ground.  

A heavenly spirit washes itself 

through me and  

does not purify, 

a subtle glitter left in the wake 

of feather weight passage.  

There is a falseness about him, 

and yet his 

eyes 

burrow through my pores 

into melancholy pools 

by my heart.  

He is filling the gaps 

and cloaked fear as 

roses 

dash my hopes 

with fractional blows.