Six Word Memoirs on Life Stories

Backstory

brief, scribbled sheets
often written, late at night
I sense you
but cannot
wake you

Across time
and inert space
my desire enflames -
tears heavenly planets
pinned in its wake

Clouds convalescing
run aground -
land is laid to waste

Words manifest
and quickly evaporate

My thoughts of you incinerate,
divinely define
a prize I have never gained

Now the date has grown too late,
and the hour -
resembles a somber wake

My brittle laughter cannot compensate
nor erase this bitter state.

:lqp
2/16/12, Vapor