Sliven Thoughts

She walks on quicksand,

Sliver hued anklets dipping below

Golden-bronzed grains of mortality;

Her raven locks whip in a wind she ignores.

She blows soap bubbles,

Ruby lips in a pout,

Lashes kissing her cheeks;

She notices not how they pop seconds away.

Earphones in ears block out the world;

Sunglasses are a camouflage;

And the twilight hours between waking and sleep,

Between life and death, is peace.