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Footprints

Tags: night, scene, poem, life
Spilling your fears,
Then painting false humor,
You slink into the night.

As if it never happened.
As if you’d never before parted your lips
Or stolen the air.

Blind, I follow.
Stumbling through shadows,
Bound to your footsteps.

Inhale. Exhale.
Shallow fires of breath.

I step forth,
Whispering your name
Into the heavy quiet.

Lines of gloom shift
As your body turns,
Facing me
From your private hell.

Go,” you whisper.

My feet root to the sidewalk,
Cold piercing my face,
My body,
My heart.

I should tell you
You aren’t alone.
Not here, not ever.
That I’m broken with you,
Shattered and bleeding
And wasting at your side.
I should tell you everything,
And take you in my arms,
Warm you with my open heart.

I take a breath instead,
And say nothing.

The back of your hand
Brushes my cheek,
Caressing my skin
With love and defeat.

It’s too late.

Before I find my voice to answer,
Your lips descend on mine
In a torrent of lingering kisses,
Eclipsing the blackness in my soul.

Breathless, wet, hungry,
I step closer.

To nothing.

Kisses turn to whispers,
Your body to breeze,
Everything lost in shadows.

Oblivion thunders through the night.

I open my eyes.
The ghost of memory
Howls through my heart,
Screams from my soul.

Another day gone.

But tonight, tucked in this alley,
The wind speaks.

Live for me.

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