four seventeen

Published April 17, 2013 by April Fox

i ravage his treasure
steal from the dreams he keeps locked inside
his simmering head
written out longhand, his sharp letters
a path to the stars

night, darker than the furthest corner from the sun
and i am nightmares raging, waking out of breath
unable to speak
with my own voice
unable to see
with my own eyes
i am helpless
in this grip

and before, the sun baked us warm
and whole
cooked out of us the memories
of anything gone wrong
melted hand to hand
five thousand feet in the air
we touched the clouds
cool air on our skin
terrified of the altitude
exhilarated, pale
laughing
through the fear
(he photographed me there, sitting near the edge
sky stretched out behind me
i trust him to let go
and not to let me fall)

daybreak, noon and i am
tired,
more than tired.
breathing in the scent of him, his arm draped across me
like he owns the world
-he might
if what he says is true
and from the depths of madness i reach in
extract the thing i need the most
asleep, he knows i’m there
fingers spread, he reaches
for my hand
and won’t let go.

Image

photo by Anthony Dorion

2 comments on “four seventeen

  • There is power in those words. Like the trees in the photo, life is gnarled and dark at times, but dazzling blue skies are always calmly waiting, idling til sunrise. Good stuff. Keep it coming

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    • Thank you… I didn’t realize, until I read it over just now, how dark this piece felt. Anthony took this photo on our hike last weekend; I said I liked how the trees were reaching for each other. It seemed to fit here. Sometimes it’s hard to remember the blue skies when everything inside is so dark, even when life is really wonderful. I’m working on that… not sure where I’d be without A and the kids to remind me.

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