You said, “It’s never replacement”, when really, it is replacement.
Why is it so hard to walk alone?
when alone is something no one
knows, even
you alongside the rosy bosom flower
cannot recognise the need
to dull the space of nothing.
Why can't the path be lit with
nothing more than one pair of feet
in the mud
of life and laughter spilled raw
in the cuts and bruises
carved shallow in a pillar wall.
Why does it hurt knowing more
than life will wash ashore
upon the swollen beach
exploding deeply into my soul:
sandy places scratch the wound
where hands link elsewhere afar.
Melanie Kate inc.
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