twilight governs battered anatomy,
sanguine pigment rampant within mercury labyrinths —— ;
( weary symphony,
dissonance dotting unspoken lament. )
it’s a firmament of choices made,
repercussions suffered ;
( sodden wasteland,
oh irony.)
and he stands behind her ( a man, still a man ),
gentle breath ( hummingbird wings ) —— ;
buries the tip of his nose in her hair ( she’s fire, she’s remedy,
and he finds comfort in her scent. )
’ the tea is cold. ‘
attaches no particular emotion to his voice,
gutted.
does not step closer,
does not touch her with brimming fingertips.
there are borders he won’t cross,
and it’s selfish, it’s not.
he is a man who gives everything,
to the best of his ability ———- ;
sometimes, however, it feels a lot more like nothing.
fair skin glows with the moonlight
golden eyes a lost look to them– almost as if they are somewhere else.
[loneliness has become a friend,
a friend that creates a void within]
she’s unsure of how long she’s sat there
though perhaps no longer than when she’d received news of his arrival
mere hours ago.
[why didn’t she go with him?
what if he didn’t come back?]
she doesn’t hear him come in
a sign that she is lost deep within the abyss of darkness
when she feels his warmth
tip of his nose within ginger tresses
soft sigh of content released through rose lips
a man
whom she cares for with her soul
back into safe arms again.
"i know. “
lack of emotion is noted
but she knows him all too well
urges to touch him
bring him close
almost overwhelms her
he is a man of duty
responsibility
she vows to protect
but how can she protect him from herself?
"you made it back.”
this time
emotion isn’t lost in spoken word
a relief
a reminder that either one could possibly
not
come
back.