hesitation of a sigh

One slip,
one fall,
one hesitation of a sigh in a breath not yet taken,
the moth gravitates once again to a flame
that
holds the muse of a poet.
Lost within the waltz of words,
logic tumbles from dominoes laid in a perfect chord;
symmetry of language woven into the wings of love.
The air is still,
the flame always absolute in its continuity.
The moth becomes translucent in wakeful sleep
while your sagas drift through endless memories
creating the light that reaches toward my heart.
In the quiet hours when the sky kisses the moon,
your smile dances with the wings of the moth.
One life,
one slip of a hesitation
begins to fall into a breath taken
as the flame gently embraces the muse of the poet;
light playing the chords of your soul.