eight bells

I wrote this whilst sitting alone in a busy shopping centre on the evening of Valentine’s Day.

written on 14th February 2014

earth circles, globe triangles, rice paper rolls on a fake mosaic table.. floating remedies, simple goodbyes, and the silence before a night disappeared. a cold drink, an icy path, a former lover with the mark of a warrior on his shoulder. fairest is fairest, the throne seats just one, and in all ambience that betrays the flood of sound I shall falter — a glass eye, an impossible stare, and a lonely, peaceful gifted box that holds a teddy bear; a gunshot fired, no stone unturned, the bitter murmur of the last words from one’s lost sojourn; a gentle grace, yet peaceful yearn, in all stars that glitter alongside the moon and let the blue sun burn; your sharp embrace, some silver droplets, the sky beyond the island evokes the only strength to stop us; inside your faith, beyond disgrace, for every fraction between sea and space that flies far beyond, erased, I only shatter, between the realms that hover under boundless heavens more than I can tell, and only there, I know I’ll try to hold the echoes back under my ribs and unfasten every cry and only while, only while I echo back and forth with my ribs just shy, and pain will hasten, pain will hasten every moment flying in my heart and I will lose, I will forget, but only become the way to start and ending with regret.