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 .