she stands alone staring out her window pane
while the trucks go west and the cars go east,
a blurry dance after the needle’s left.
she scratches the places she lies about
-like just another flea bite on her arm-
tonight it will take me, tonight it will be
she prays in her mind, she prays in her mind.
he will wait for me after the sentence is passed
she practises saying before the dull silver mirror
swaying, swimming, and grabbing table and chair
black ovals running reckless with careless remorse-
her colors colliding with the sharp stinging stick,
she lays on the carpet, letting loose of all care.
he lays in the covers enclosed like a womb
passion with position, placement and pillow
steeping in memory after bedtime routine.
he stabs in the dark with a careless delight
the dreams of the ocean wide with sea foam
as sailing alone to where waters collide
the figures all passing, the figures all gone.
he practices the faces, the lines, and the songs
the nights and the days, the storms and the calm
the mountains, the valleys, the sheep by the sea
the motions, the dances, the dialogue, the tea.
he stretches to take them, and cuddle them near
but wakes with a start to find they’re not there.
but silence is fleeting, while the Faithful One is kind
so he closes his eyes again…with God on his mind.