Extremism in Fragile States

Dallas Supernova

I smell your perfume
on my clothes: the purple sunset
in your eyes; we share
a supernova and outshine
the city lights.

there was darkness in
her song: a tender voice of
longing and despair
untouched by superstition
or the loss of innocence.

my impulse missed a
beat or two, submerged in life
the scent of perfume,
and fluorescent lights burned beige
from overused transcendence.

Trees caught resting by
The sunset woods, tightly combed
Along the neckline
Branch, a wilderness below
The canopy of darkness.

Image Courtesy of Jacqueline E. Smith

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