Nobody's tomorrow is guaranteed.
You. Mine. Nobody.
Yeah! Nobody gets a promise of "afterwards".
It is right here. Right now.
It is the breath we inhale. Or exhale.
The vice versa, well ... that is a huge question mark.
We live in piece meals. Postponing living.
All the while waiting for a tomorrow we have not seen, we are not sure of.
And the present is crumpled and consigned to shadows.
The hands wipe a layer of dust from the windows of yesterday.
A lifeful of regrets peep through.
Trust me, it does not take time for time to become a memory.
The 12 inch heel, the confident gait, The measured steps, the sudden halt, The blush on cheeks, the smoldering eyes, The hands on hips, head held high, The silken gown, barely there, A tilt of neck, balanced well, The sultry glance, timed right, Perfect half twirl, played twice, With a graceful swirl, she turns back. The world looks on with stolen breath, Oohs, aahs, applauds, encores. The showstopper’s yesterday, Now hangs in a gallery, Fading parchment, guarded unnecessarily. No shadows of glamour come a-chasing, For vacant eyes and sagging skin, For shattering illusions, hanging questions, Am I never going back? Linking with The Mag : Mag 147 Linking with Write on Edge : The Red Writing Hood - The Gallery Linking with My blog can beat up your blog : 100 Word Song : Never going back to Ok Linking with The Velvet Verbosity : 100 Words - Breath
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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.