The loop closes now,
all pocket watches shatter.
Time ensnares their bones.
Tag: secret
An unknown person
Socks and shoes of apple cores;
a worm seeks the seed.
These poisoned shells are restaurants
with fine presentation but shallow portions.
Bumping shoulders doesn’t hurt
when they’re invisible.
And no-one ever talks about how long those shells
are empty.
Stamps
How many times can you see a shadow,
the same shadow, in a day?
Different people, different stance, different persona
stamped with the shadow,
followed, tied, a trail of darkness
pulling faces at the world
while getting trampled on.
Unnoticed. Invisible. Despite
its clear lines.
That wobbling seed
I can hold your hand. I’m always here for you.
Yes, in your hour
of need
I’ll be watching
I’ll be waving
I’ll be waiting.
Let me take your hand, you know I’m here
always. For you.
That’s
the problem, isn’t it?
You do know
it’s me
niggling
niggling
niggling
in your mind, casting those shadows
around you. Wait.
You think
I should be ashamed?
I’d say I’m rather proud of what I do.
You’d just take happiness
for granted
if I wasn’t here.
Berry Scrumping
We gather them nightly,
lip-smacking juices running down my chin.
You look like a vampire
you say, equally so.
We laugh as the moon cackles down at us
and goose pimples rise
up over our exposed skin.
On our way home,
hands weaved together, close,
more support than affection,
you slip your mask back over your face
hiding the pinkish stains from the world.
Hiding our sweet indulgence
even from yourself.
Pin-cushion
Do they know about the secrets kept sewn into your pockets? You brush shoulders with them everyday, spilling reflections from your shoes. People have always been bad at spotting fake images. You don’t want to close the circle, but the ice is drawing in fast.
Cubed
Inside the neat black cube
lies a silver heart.
It has never felt the breath of air
that comes from an open box.
For all its years,
the metal is worn
only slightly;
if it were of flora,
then it would be as green
as the newest seedling
and have experienced
even less.
A sudden jolt
jars the black cube.
It falls from its perch
down
to the floor.
The heart doesn’t know
what to do.
Its world is changing.
The cube is broken;
air and light finally leak in.
Treeshallow Musings 