mist

burnt out selves
living in embers
speak in ashen whispers.
a sky full of stars
cozy in cottony blankets
promises a cloudless dawn.
misty mountains
greet a life
lived in unopened bottles
and sleepless reverie.

days bathe themselves
in dewy hopes
of the loveless.
while nights dance
to the feverish pitch
of temple chants.

time makes up
its own meandering meaning.
and ticks on.