Heart sorrow full, followed by pale phantoms
He winds his way through darkened avenues.
Far in the distance, the echo-yap of
A hell hound’s bark splinters the silence.
This citadel of restless, walking dead,
Holds not the warmth of a beating human heart;
The fading heart of Lillibet.
Suddenly, the fear of being alone,
Is outweighed by fears of duplicate shadows
There is blood on the moon, cries from the ground,
For in this place only the dead are found.
I never came back.' She sighed.
He looked into her eyes.
'You never left!'
'Oh, but I did. I was never here at all.'
Against the majesty of darkness,
The stars pulsed.
She closed her eyes. Returned home.
Amongst the wild flowers of the meadow,
Her hand in his.
The perfume of moonlight on her skin.
'Kiss me,' he whispered.
'You can't kiss the dead; hold the shadows.'
She smiled at him in sorrow.
'But you are alive. You are here.'
Tears fell like shooting stars.
'No,' she said, 'I was never here at all.'
She is paper fragile;
So when the snow falls,
she sweeps and bends to his caress
As pale as the steel coloured page
Marked with the black eloquence
That swirls in momentary voice
And then fades,
like the word