The thing you couldn’t place. That feeling, unsure. A look, a gaze. Recognition. Maybe. That well in your heart. That spike in your pulse. A bite in the air. A chill at your side. That was me. Waiting to be seen. That was us. Lingering over a moment.
Sun rise on a black and white day
Brightness lifted, contrast sharpened
Sifting through shades of grey
A gradient without colour
Sun glistens. Ripples wriggle. Silt dances in the stream. Clear water no more. Mud moves, water flows. Yet still we swim.
Dew sparkles, glimmering in the morning chill. Tears holding on. Lost as the sun rises.
In dappled sunshine
The cold stone stares,
Like rows of dominoes waiting,
Rows of lives lost, taken.
In shadows they dance,
Among the trees, standing tall.
A watch tower for the dead.
For the lost.
rain drums in rhythms
beating in time to my pulse
Just for a moment
We were always on the edge. Never quite falling. That freedom of flying just out of reach. The time we didn’t but almost did, and again, and again. Time spent wasting, time with you. They said we would. They said we did. But we were almost something. Just an almost.
Beating in, out. Stomach rising. To that thud, that drum. Vibrating. Moving. Breaking. Beaming. You.
Away from here. From the daily grey. Give me the blue of the ocean, golden sands, bright white spray. Give me air to breathe.