The last time

Time hung suspendedabove the bed  where you and Iwrapped the past in present pleasurewe were alone in two voidsyou’d learnt the sharp inclineof bitter tears across my swollen  emptiness,I knew your every move and youhad my cynicism branded on your shoulder.There is no rest , you strain to disentangleI cat like crave the warm caress of familiar smellbeg to return to faded haunts dispossessed of dignity:you cling to “might have beens” nothing changedour cries fleece the night sky dependency a postcardwhere I write our names blood weary .