sometimes i feel
as if you hold
my hand
although it is nothing
but air.

maybe it's the blues
fading lighter;
perhaps it's the whites
glowing brighter.

when i close my eyes
it's as if i see a flutter;
erratic patterns
shadowy apparitions
against light.

i spent a fleeting moment
submerged.
the stream of warmth
cooled my head
then the distinct scent
of orange and spice.

clove and chance
i wish for the last petal
to remain intact.