Incommunicado
His fingertips on her skin, his breath in her lungs
Filling her up with memories of what once Was
What will never again Be.
The smell of clean damp skin
Of bathwater
Sweat soaked scalp
Slept-in hair worn covered under a woollen hat too long.
The way his hands twitch when he hears music with his body.
The way her hips move, articulating her language.
Familiar once
Now foreign to each other.
An unspoken language
Long forgotten in the disharmony of their destruction.
Strangers in waiting
Wondering if past transgressions can ever give way to the possibility of future forgiveness.
Begin again.
Do over
And over and over and over to the point where they become numb
Non sensical in rhythm
Rhyme, time.
Incommunicado.
Filling her up with memories of what once Was
What will never again Be.
The smell of clean damp skin
Of bathwater
Sweat soaked scalp
Slept-in hair worn covered under a woollen hat too long.
The way his hands twitch when he hears music with his body.
The way her hips move, articulating her language.
Familiar once
Now foreign to each other.
An unspoken language
Long forgotten in the disharmony of their destruction.
Strangers in waiting
Wondering if past transgressions can ever give way to the possibility of future forgiveness.
Begin again.
Do over
And over and over and over to the point where they become numb
Non sensical in rhythm
Rhyme, time.
Incommunicado.
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