"Flowers of Fiamma" One Shot Wednesday #36

Fiamma puts flowers in her hair,
lights have been extinguished.
You’ve changed the course … shifted.
As a lock of red hair falls over her shoulder,
fruit is sliced open as walls weep
perfume contained inside them.
A pounding as he exits on a spiral staircase.

I am falling into myself, no escape.
Unraveling each part
of a painting hanging upside down.
Tiles have cracked under foot,
a crevice is opening up.

Fiamma puts her flowers in my hand.
She has lit the candles,
placing them far out of reach,
as a lock of red hair falls over her eye …