Midnight Blue

 

 

In the absence of your voice,
your words float
pulling between rib and muscle
begging for strength to hold the bridge
that splinters the space between.

We reach
vein to vein
trailing our blood in a lovers swirl
holding sighs
and distant breaths.

The crow’s song
molds our pieces
telling us a story
that breaks distance
and gives life.

We are the same.
Lines, holding me to your chest,
to confirm
the massive ache I feel
when the page is blank.

We share a pain.
Mended pieces of a broken puzzle,
once a barren open wound
now stitched.
Beautiful.
And free.

 

 

 

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