Between the lines

Dark side of the moon
indentations:
we’ve laid our flesh
side by side
on this palette of life.

She sits on midnight buses following trails across the city, she’s wrapped in a blood red shawl, notices nothing. One small laced boot protrudes from enveloping skirt, cold carves blue veins on iced skin. He runs an empty beach at midnight mind returning and returning to the same small space that’s lit up in his mind. A kiss in drenching rain, a face open like the light, a grown woman curled as a child upon his knee. His eyes see nothing of the pale horizon: sleep has left him, ahead stretch miles and miles of empty life. His fingers ache from tearing reams of paper, lines of words are blurred beneath his tear filled eyes, but it’s not his demands, her words, it’s the things they’ve never said, the language lost between the lines that causes tragedy.

Knives indented
twist and turn
in fresh flesh
leaving drops
of bright red blood
glowing droplets of infinity.

He runs the empty beach to find, stars, stardust, shells, sand through his fingers, like her hair, closed footprints washed by the tide, he has searched a million years to lie beside her only to give her up from pride. He follows footprints as they disappear under the swell of encroaching tide; his pounding heart is tightly shut within his perfect chest, muscles tight from toning day by day , he takes a breath it comes in sobs.

Seagulls fly
flattened against
offshore wind
wheel and climb
to hover.

Somewhere lost in time and place she changes pace and follows footprints barely visible beneath the sand duned wind, and their roaming is orchestrated by the musical whim of an unseen conductor.

…………………………………………………………………………………………..

Sky cracks with inertia
rain flecks roofs
crows spin and squabble
over dead carcass
of the year.

All that’s left is laughter.

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