Seeing beyond the pattering
and smattering of words thrown
out like dry dung from a shed.

Waiting for the release that will
come (or maybe not) from the frayed
rope of tension between you and me.

Holding still in the winged turbulence
of this rigid life together and apart,
filled with longing and desire not met.

The silence holds us in a cold cage of
if-and-when that is a prison term of life
for our crime of never finding an end.

 

26/5/2024