Tidal Locks

Fold just once to save some time —

perhaps to bridge this crack — 

between the spaces of the line,

my stage-light tesseract. 

Angles always arcing right,

light twisted up and bent.

Finding neither sound nor sight,

touch is all that’s meant. 

Rough and pitted from our part,

my orbit stays the same.

Gravity alone does not break hearts,

fusion is to blame.

But this could never be enough to keep our molten dance.

Beneath the iron of those stars, words never stood a chance.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s