Time hung suspended

above the bed  where you and I

wrapped the past in present pleasure

we were alone in two voids

you’d learnt the sharp incline

of bitter tears across my swollen  emptiness,

I knew your every move and you

had my cynicism branded on your shoulder.

There is no rest , you strain to disentangle

I cat like crave the warm caress of familiar smell

beg to return to faded haunts dispossessed of dignity:

you cling to “might have beens” nothing changed

our cries fleece the night sky dependency a postcard

where I write our names blood weary .