Tuesday, 3 March 2015

loss

The air hangs heavy with  silence, pressing its leaden weight through darkening rooms. All warmth has leached away, leaving a hairline crack through which has seeped the sadness of lost memories; and a glint of silver on once familiar skin.
Shadows move through unguarded doorways; deepening as days stretch to night, and the slow tick of the clock marks the passing hours.... and I, curled catlike under heavy quilts, taste the bitter taint of words as yet unspoken; as the creeping chill of empty sheets numbs me to the core.

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