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Poem

I stood motionless
the breath scratching its way to surface
seconds idled into minutes
watching like a predator in its prey sight
Her selective form withdrawing into darkness
Will held me captive
slowly drowning in the morose
Etching her shape
in forgotten shadow
The war between need and loss
accumulating in an arrow pierced tear 
This sweetest sorrow somehow stale
and parting never to be twain ed
The end of us
Turn away
the unheard voice utters from beneath
but holding onto hope
as it burns its faltered escape
and reality aborted by her trace
can be tracked rolling down my face

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