I'm returning to look for you

For the first time 

By the great fire

By the time I got there 

All was left was ashes

White through red to

Grey and black

 

Gathering dust

Watching slow specks glowing

Like hot particles slowdancing in the sunshine through the window

Shifting slowly around the room like a sand dune

Just the Scirocco blowing over

The back of your head

As night falls into the Med

Hoarding the mementos

Or throwing them away

Flooding Venice

Turning it over

Make sure its out

Dead skin dont sell

House dust might

 

Forgery in the furnance or just
"Going down into the depths to find the material
Upon which to expend his innate art and 
To fashion that which is beautiful and useful"?