Twilit silence strung between the spent
light and the darkness gathering
Broken by vows pulled taught at
the noise of long shadows echoing
Churned in the angry wake of a window
thrown wide to the teeth
Cast adrift above the insect chorus
feeding on this mistake of boxes
This is not the clutch of tarmac skinning
the parking lot, but her belongings
Hauled through the gloaming to a car
within earshot of their apartment
The mortification of two sieved by heat
fleshing out intangible pointing fingers
Or an evening bell sounding the betrayal
of all that is above the heart:
Crown, eyes, ears, neck, shoulder, lip,
mouth, tongue, all of them insisting
This is the toll of distance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well-written. Dramatic crescendo.