Music and candlelight -- a tiny flame shivering. Lips like licorice. Cold mist falling down outside in the black. Saw a photo of Paris once, beautiful and pristine in monochrome. Stone stairs descending under streetlamps and bare trees.
Midnight.
A second hand metronomes the hour.
Friday-to-Saturday: fluid present. January-to-February. Cold water; inside, outside...melting into icy puddles on the inky ground.
Loose in the neck. Relaxed and still.
Thinking of the sea at night. Black under black, liquid under air...churning. The salty hiss of water over sand. Nighttime surf heartbeat. Stars. The curl and curves of luminous foam.
Like snow.
Like here.
White ghosts tumbled together on the ground, thining down to memories under vague rain. Seconds, minutes...hours, washing.
And blue candlelight, flickering slow.
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