Poetry

Safe-cracking

The elation is bubbling, it’s brewing inside,

wanting to escape my body, making my fingers want to twitch

and hands flap, like a great torrential tide.

I know I can release it,

no-one’s said I can’t.

Yet the stares and whispers from ghosts

keep the iron-grip I have on myself

as powerful as an attack with a lance.

But if I do it when no-one’s looking,

release the hold bit by bit,

perhaps I can let myself flick out this ball of energy

and have it leave me content and happy

without shaming myself to quit.

Poetry

Snatched Moment in a Long Day

Toes touching, noses pressed close,

magnets in our hearts.

The clock is ticking,

great eyes of the sly shadow

on our backs,

a whisper away from

coiling its tendrils around our ankles

to drag us apart.

We form our circle, arm in arm,

our energy like salt

casting the cursed presence aside.

A beat more.

A beat more, and our lips touch.

A beat more, and we are.

We are, we are, we are.

Nothing can break us.