Love in the close

Written by: Bethany Chipperfield

Death - the still air stagnant with his death 
I see the lady, shattered on the floor, no breath. 

Dare I touch her, reach out? I can’t - I do, 
Cold eyes, a blank stare, soul flown, the ghost of you. 

She halts, the ingrains in her cheeks blowing
blooms like beacons, her heart is showing. 

I pull her, entice her, and bring her near, 
Trap her; iron tight, the beat of her unravelling fear. 

The case so bound, so wound, tight and close - 
cracked. Just once, and bare eyes turned morose. 

Only then, could I see the fissures, attempt the start, 
The start of stitching together her broken heart. 


Bethany Chipperfield