Sunday, 5 March 2017

space history

The decision, like a closet,
musty with old tears, the darkness smelt  
of hugs ungiven, hugs withheld in greed;
as if love could ever run out…

and yet it did, it does,
time and time again, first a steady light
and then the explosion into hell.

That is how it felt,
those days before the leaving;
your eyes, empty holes, alternate universes,
never looking my way, perched already ahead
in that realm without me, in that space
filled behind me, and in my ears the sound
of dirt hitting the wooden lid -
my hands banging, the darkness evolving downwards;
a grave, a singularity, a forlorn cry
into the expanding vacant spaces between the memories
of all that had been.

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