The Last Glimmer

As the blue night fades, slowly,

I sit on the cold,

looking at the jasmines.

In this vanishing night,

the jasmines breathe their last—

as if they no longer want

to hear my heartbeat.

I lie with my breath,

breathing slowly,

holding it for a moment,

listening to its final notes.

There was a time

this blue night held my shivering soul,

carried me through its dreams,

returned a quiet sparkle

to the jasmine garden.

Now I stand

in the whitened garden,

holding my last cigarette,

watching a pale dream—

like ink,

scribbling its final words

before forgetting itself.

For a moment,

the blue night keeps

one last glimmer.

I lie inside my dream,

with only a faint heat

left in my heart.