singular

There was a quiet calm…almost ominous…as she sat in heaven's anteroom.
Her limbs gave way
To the tree swing that swayed her kneecaps like ivory pendulums as her smoked hair tiptoed on the pores of her skin.
Morbidly overjoyed in this moment...
She consumed the occasion and relished in the soirée of the fragrant ambrosia compiled of lust and love and cotton candy that leaked from happiness’s back room…
She could hear them…her heart was kindled by their chants of fidelity.
“Almost...
There...”
She whispered…though not too loudly for her heart had waxed a little less limber, a little more cold since last December…
She could taste it now only on the back of her tongue.
She waited patiently for his reply.
She’d been here before…a little more cynical this time yet, still hopeful.
He sighed.
She knew that tone.
And instead of combusting, blowing up into a million pieces because of his reclusion…she strolled into Happiness, alone.