Sometimes you forget the silence,
its somber pall like gray clouds
in an eternal goom, pierced only
in the glitter of a porcelain moon,
when the faint glow of your cigarette
reflects in the vodka on the rocks.
Sadly, rose colored lipstick then stains
the quiet as your whispers freeze,
shivering me with each icy word
as you crucify me with "your" love
until all I see is a faint sun
peeking above an eyeliner horizon.