Wafting

Carry me within a whisper,
the very essence of me is
simply hushing spirits of yesterday.

My passing is but a journey,
a mere breeze,

I sachet between worlds-

To sachet; sensually walk
with my brothers and sisters
of the night, silhouetting thoughts
as these words become art-

simply an artistry of tears.

My cup is adorned with an inky, sinful
revelation, such a heavy liquid of emotion-
but I drink until dawn....

A floating entity, shadowed,
cloaked and coveted by seedlings
from a hundred years or so ago..

Verses are wafting,
to the end of time and beyond....