December tenth stares from a wall
At a girl with plum-colored hair and
Eyes the shade of a twilight
That blurs purple into the darkness.
/
The girl looks out
At the blurred edges of this night's snowflakes,
Falling softly past the windowpane
And down to empty streets below.
/
It has been more than a month since her birthday,
Her escape from fourteen
That twirled around the clock
A hundred or more times before
Finally stopping.
/
Maybe not a hundred times,
It was only one month
Repeating again and again
With thirty-some days of sunshine and one of rain,
Only one of rain.
Madoka always dies on raining days.
/
A teacup clatters,
Not quite the clinks of shattering glass,
But startling all the same.
The awakened girl looks into
Kind eyes and golden curls left free to spill over a friend's shoulder.
Still intentional in all movements,
The golden girl continues setting up the rest of that midnight's meal.
/
Tiramisu melts upon tongues as
Two friends sit in silence
And two survivors let their thoughts soften with the disappearing cake.
/
The quite reigns
Until the twilight girl leaves
With the waking of dawn's light.
A soft "thank you" drifts with the snow behind her
While unnumbered days rise up ahead
Forever blocking her sight of what's to come.