Slam

I.

my fresh starts,
rebirths,
resolutions,
revolve around
my love for you,
and hopefully me too.

II.

time rushes when love is blooming,
an hourglass above it looming

renewed or turned, one cannot know,
only hope it will be so

beseech the gods or
Father Time,
there is no reason, only rhyme.

III.

traditions,
rituals forfeited
for the sake of freedom,
a celebration of self,
version incomplete.

IV.

his hands felt like angelic touch,
the stroke of midnight his cue,
the darkness a cloak for risque love,
a hider of secrets
that risk their reveal,
restless for a lustful stupor
to fade his mind from light of day.

V.

illusions,
champagne dreams,
amid the buzz on New Year’s Eve,
stirred to reality,
she quietly took her leave,
escaping the confetti rain.

VI.

countdown time,
or turn my face,
see the moments roll away,
blank slate here,
then gone again,
another chance to turn the page,
drown out memories in my head,
with newer,
better ones instead.

Emily©

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