~vicis~

There are regrets that hide between spaces of seconds, their beguiling smile tainting the contents of an empty sigh. Each a jigsaw piece lost beneath the tiles of faux façade, leaving fabrication incomplete, and there is no holy water to quench thirst of dried lines, scattered like delta from salted pool. Simplicity is complicated, compressed silica throwing back imperfection of stormy existence; weathered eras melded like reclaimed glass into a chimera of age and memories. Finality is so much closer now, yesterdays number more than tomorrows and the trickle becomes a torrent as kisses cross out innocent youth, eroding that mountain of expectation into a hillock of realisation, and all about, scree that becomes grit laying on the p(l)ain of my history.