The warmth forgot him,
In the rose sunset of the dry Sahara,
The cold introduced itself,
With a beautiful oasis following him,
Littered with palm trees,
It was a cool figure,
Shave smoother than the sun-bleached dunes that surrounded them,
Sunglasses darker than black holes,
Pupils behaving as endless singularities,
Black suit tailored to unsettling perfection,
Matched with dark, leather shoes,
With uncanny confidence,
It opens a snakeskin suitcase,
Within, a light shined brighter than the universe,
It offered him closure for warmth,
He would not speak,
It offered him wisdom for warmth,
He would not speak,
It offered him peace for warmth,
Still, he would not speak,
Suddenly, the suitcase clenches its mouth shut,
With the absence of its light comes night,
The echo vibrates the sand,
The once calm desert swallows the fresh oasis,
The cold melts through his suit,
Slowly fading away,
The wrinkleless suit gently crumbles onto the sand,
Its creaseless leather shoes, now hidden,
Its sunglasses lay on top of the rubble,
Still staring,
The warmth forgot him,
Under the excuse of the seasons,
But he will never betray it,
He loves it more than himself,
May it find him again,
May it lose him again.
Title Image Art: Dave Datsuzoku
