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



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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