Sunday 1 July 2018


Her voice carries over the sound of wheels on wet tar,
Over the shift of a bag, a guitar slung over a shoulder,
Knee hitting the body of the other bag, rhythmically
Part knell, part heartbeat,
Driving him to the hill,
To the two lakes,
To her last wish.
To set her loose,
to allow himself to become one.
No longer tied to him, no longer tied to anything,
More than that, to let her be apart from him,
but a part of all.
For him to be one for the first time.

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Thank you for taking the time to read and comment. I try to reply to as many as I can either here or by email. <3 LJx