Their time together had become,
A mere chapter of life.
A chapter too short.
And try as he might,
He could not stop the pages from turning.
Each day he woke from a fretful sleep,
She had slipped further back in time.
And the distance strained at his heart,
Like a bow pulled back with an arrow.
Asleep was the only time he could be with her.
Touch her cheek, look into her eyes
So full of love for him they floated against
A blur of background inconsequence.
So close, so precious, so real.
Then wakefulness would drag him back to hell.
Gritty eyes would see the numbers had increased,
Taking him away, leaving him adrift.
Her chapter was back there; back at the beginning.
My poor Antonio .. I am writing a scene in which he is struggling with huge loss. I thought I would treat you to a snippet and poetrise it (I’ve just made up a new word 😃) xx
(Photo credit; Imagefully.com)