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~Two chairs staring at each other…empty.
Meters away, dark fog gathers to choke their
fired gazes piercing the needles of discord
strewn on the caving floor   both mute, raging…
both divided by scrolls of dead sea syllables that

gradually, a quivering throat assuages 
another tattered heart lost in the mist 
of anger; moving without movement on such
a sulfur night:  and the chairs creak 
in anticipation of hands tasting 

a pour of balm. Till  words ramble  ,“
I am sorry,” his hands pleading
like a sonata of crying winds. Light
touches light once, twice--and her hand
reaches out ... a nearness of their skin groping . 

Two chairs move closer and await
quarrel's  mercy as  starglow grants
lovers the warmth of forgiving embraces. 


For Lover's Quarrel Contest
Sponsor: Lewis Raynes

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