At midnight
A flower blooms
Petals lifting
To the moon
Like a bird
Who sings her song
Sweetly, swiftly
For too long
Too long, for
She's out of breath
A kiss held fast
'Til her love's spent
She is me
And me is I
And my eye sees me
Left behind
A heart not found
In fiction's fact
Encased in glass
Like bric-à-brac