Promised Hours

why is it
that only upon leaving
do you voice
lament

fleeting amid
sentiments
and sudden
things to do

promised hours
perish
in a flash
of wistful
alley light

scarce
your words
remain
as token trials of hope
since lost

hanging in denial
are faded smiles
and fusty
mothballed coats

in the closet
strung like latent
trysts
listless
and long forgotten

Rogue Reminisce

shadows crept
the length
of disquietude

distilled
in the wonder
of our willful dearth

lumbering
through morass

when last we plundered
this scorching earth

she blindly scrawled
three bold runes

that burn yet
still
within
this piteous pith
of tormented ruin

immune
to time’s retelling

they rave and revel
in a rogue reminisce