[Faile]

Autumn

The sun caught his eye, unprepared;
It left me blinded, like the dying autumn leaves
may deceive yet fall to earth (under pressure
of the inevitable).

His thoughts wilt in the dusk of a life;
never fully comprehended beyond the black
of being afraid of the dark;
remember, purity once existed.

I remember seeing him on the beaches,
black and white vintage;
broken promise and drained of speech,
only death the holy.

The leaves are falling faster now.

*

It has been some time since we were last here. I remember but I’m not entirely sure you do, or whether you could even? Questions built on questions, but I’m sure that all it takes is a memory.
She fell, do you remember? We watched her together, walking in those same sand marked footprints, the rough drag of the paving slab not touching our immortal youth yet still lacking definition, all we ever could do was follow. I’ll forgive you the slip; we all make them from time to time.
Where are we going? I’m not even sure she knows yet.

*

Thursday


It was a Thurday morning. The rain caught the last gasp of sunshine, atomised white light and teenage explosion of hope. Small moments with which to maintain faith with, whilst the world ground down hope and heaven under grey skies, malignant and threatening. Wake up, wake up.

That night she had dreamt of nothing, cursed blank minds, no inspiration left to be found there. Her head felt like concrete, pulled by unseen hands from above. The radio hissed static voice, monotone crowed calls of times past and times to be, people who were and people who are. She was neither there or here. It didn’t matter. Few things do in the end, a lesson learnt under moonlight.

Finding her way there was akin to the dreamscape she was lacking, failed medicine again. Thoughts of him grasped at her hands, burning and wreathing in an air of dirt that made her want to cut her fingers off, as if to keep her purity intact. Walking down the same wooden steps, she hoped to follow his footsteps mixed and muddied with time and earth. He was here before.

Her eyes scanned the sands, watched the wind smooth everything over, watched the grains scour stones, wood, souls. Walking to the water was easy, he had gone and she must follow. He had stood here somewhere, just a week ago. She never knew, nobody had. They found him days later, washed a mile away.

She closed her eyes and met the tide head on. Grey skies met dead eyes, symbolism to the end. The last thought was of him, then nothing else mattered.