Blinding the dark

It flicks its fingers at the edge of my vision

This shadow

Pulling its cloak quick over my face

To grey my view of everything I rise to meet.

 

I claw the cloak away, but threads always remain.

I can’t see them until I take a good look,

And by then, the shadow itself has returned to repeat the process.

 

It’s made a mistake this time.

This time I step forward to greet it,

And with me I bring the flares of the sun.

 

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Risen

Morning breeze parts the motes

Over the bed

Leaving the figure breathing

Even air, eyelids flutter as lungs fill.

Cobwebs act as puppet strings

Under the withered arms

Lifting the figure’s frame,

Enticing it to live once more.

 

Pause. Consider.

Steady, hush!

Our words buttoned up on our lips.

Protests die in our throats

As we seek to still our boiling blood.

Conform, conform, conform.

We must conform.

 

But stoppered thoughts build pressure,

And one day the cork will be forced off.

Daisy chain

Our link between worlds –

You, standing on a plinth of long grass,

looking across the clouds

to watch them take breath. Wild

flowers root at your feet.

Me, voice on the wind

ready to wake your ears

from the ballad infecting

your past. Fleeting,

barely a strand of thought

connects us, gone the instant it arrives.