Fingers Crossed Poem by Monica O'Connor

As deceit and love walk lazily hand in hand,
fingers laced, fingers crossed,
the burning glow simmers to nothing.
Belief in love,
belief in nothing but the sunrise of something glorious
provides for the dampening of slow winter evenings.
Speckled light blazes through navy clouds,
and the focus is almost there,
except theres a distraction on the horizon
that exhales intoxicating fumes of innocence and naivety.
The burning glow brightens, expands,
inflates, then explodes,
it's fragile remnants shocking the world,
rocking the frame of the routine that has been set for it.
Deceit and innocence walk hand in hand,
fingers crossed,
making promises of forever that will never hold true.