Voices

It’s always midnight

when you call

 

across a sea of

rootless green

 

the stars unfold

a moment lies between

 

a gap in breath

pulsating gene

 

of who we are.

 

I hear your voice

but then it’s gone

 

a whisper in these

leafless trees

 

a memory of

‘’might have been’’.

 

It’s always midnight

when you call:

 

reach out for something

unperceived

 

could this be love?

 

Or is it just another rhyme

that’s destined to repeat?

 

Our battered hearts are

held with twine

 

we have no reason

to believe.

 

It’s midnight when

you call

 

& for these moments

out of time

 

we talk of love & hope,

unravel the divine

 

held immobile in the

rise & fall of ocean, planet,

 

& the thought that love

has come to find us

 

one last time

before we fall.

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