your last word was 'autumn'
the desire between the written verses
On sleepless paths
a raped moon takes her walk

when was the last tango,
the last dance of happiness?
your eyes flicked as stillness
touched the soul

in this profane place
mid-autumn reigned supreme,
on the tunes of an unwritten song
and the corpse of my poetry

should I talk? Should I laugh? Cry maybe?
should I look for you on sleepless nights?
on the verge of insanity
a raped moon takes her walk