Your idylls of night
are cloaked in lilac rain
and emblazon the rite
for those on a lambent plain.

Neons unveil the indigo sky
and paint you your path
toward the mansions,
where phantoms fill your photographs.

Tendrils of smoke
scale the speakeasy walls,
your flute of clicquot
spills in the forsaken halls.


Time spoils the memories
as dawn dims your reverie.
No stranger will ever hold
your corroded heart of gold.

#writco #WritcoQuote #poetry