Tracks

Diverging Tracks

 

He sat across the aisle from me,

his iPod on, his fingertips

in fitful contact with his phone,

uncertainty played on his lips.

 

They were the shape of a kiss.

 

Mine parted, and I silently drew

breath and watched. His head inclined,

then by surprise he glanced at me

with fixed intent; his eyes met mine.

 

My breath, and time, stopped dead just then;

that moment when our paths were crossed.

He lingered, then his eyes cast down.

He turned away and all was lost.

 

Converging Tracks

 

He sat across the aisle from me,

his iPod on, his fingertips

in fitful contact with his phone,

a half-smile playing on his lips.

 

They were the shape of a kiss.

 

Mine parted, and I silently drew

breath and watched. His head inclined,

then by surprise he glanced at me

with fixed intent; his eyes met mine.

 

My breath, and time, stopped dead just then;

that moment when our paths were crossed.

He held my gaze and then he spoke.

“Hello” he said. My heart was lost.

 

25 July 2017

The Half-life of Love

(Lo, atomic number 119)

 

I’m leading a study, I need to assess

the half-life of Love and effects of excess.

My study comprises a cohort of one;

she Loved but she lost, and is rather undone.

 

She took a full dose, then a second and third;

she chose full immersion, she was undeterred.

She wasn’t concerned with the rate of decay

or the unstable properties Love might display.

 

The covalent bonds of her isotope’s atoms

were broken so sharply, it wobbled her stratums.

The subsequent oxidisation was fast;

she was thrown to the floor by the force of the blast.

 

The first phase a vivid release of emotion,

a radioactive, reactive commotion.

But such cataclysm has now given way

to a much slower, more stable beta decay.

 

Initial and brief observations suggest

that disintegration has slowed to a rest.

But when will the element be gone forever?

I’m pretty convinced that the answer is never.

 

26 May 2017

Metamorphosis

Inside me was a small dark space;

an empty space, a hollow place,

a place where love and light might be

but only ever in short bursts

had true love captivated me.

 

I called to you for many years.

I didn’t think you’d really come

but then you answered, and you were

the same shape as my missing piece,

compelling me to place you there.

 

You fitted, and you gripped me hard,

you gave me what I did not have;

you loved me and you needed me.

With wonderment and desperate joy

we shared exquisite chemistry.

 

You wove your love around my heart,

and magic from your eyes and lips

and touch and words did pierce me deep,

transfixed me with such gentleness

and open, simple honesty.

 

My small, dark space, now full with dreams,

had burst its banks and overflowed

with passion, love and guileless trust.

That empty space, which was once small;

that space was now the size of us.

 

We merged a while, we thought as one,

we spoke as one, we walked as one.

You were my mind, the centre of

my heart, my life, my waking dreams,

until the day you flew, my love.

 

The day that you withdrew, my love,

and took your dazzling light with you.

My world fell dark, all colour drained,

you crushed me with your parting words,

my heart stopped still, my soul in flames.

 

My small dark space is now a gulf,

far larger, overwhelmingly

a place of ice, no feeling there.

A huge, dark space of aching loss.

No light, no love, just cold despair.

 

And deep inside this empty void

it’s possible to just make out

a fleeting movement, hard to see.

A shadow flickers, faint and low,

a small, dark shape which once was me.

 

19 May 2017