I lay to sleep, and crease the deftly folded sheets where once a fair a fiery heat had shared the bare and naked splendour that rocked the pulse and room with pleasure.

I hold the pillow, hot and cold within my arms, the kiss and bite between my palms that both conflicts and keeps me calm but fails to bring me from my woe.

Four corners never felt so far apart, and here I lie, caught amidst the sew and seams where dreams now fill the space, not you. Who knew how fast this feeling grew?

With this string I shall tether our ankles together so, darling, when you go away I can pull on the slack and haul you right back; it’s probably best that you stay.

* * *

When the thread starts to quiver I feel like I’m with her, pulling taut by the light of the moon. And I’m sure it delights her, the thread pulling tighter, to dance to her favourite tune,

but this fool starts to wonder if you have grown fonder of the distance, the dancing, and dreams. On her heel there’s a blister where ’tether had kissed her and it’s breaking its way through the seams.

It was then that I wavered, how I wish I’d been braver and blind to what I came to see; at the end of the line, I broke and I cried on the string that she’d tied to a tree.

Fate rests upon the public hum, stop and start towards its goal. Roads, lights, pockets of change, conspire against the timetables; a dozen worried glances at ever-going watches plead with the ebbing flow and pray to gods they never loved or ever cared to know.

Amidst the crowd of worriers who’s daily meet may not be met, there sits, restlessly, a longing heart who woke this morning before the sun, sung this morning before the birds, but laughed too soon at the day’s potential; now they’ll never know what could have been.

Feather-light, a woe descends, to fall and float beside them. Truth be told, it’s company when dreams have been forgotten.

With a rubber-band around my waist, I edge away, I edge away. Flat-footed steps with little haste, I wanna stay, I wanna stay. I trail my heart across the floor. I had her smile, but I wanted more. And I never got to say those words. She was never mine, but I was hers. And I wanna stay, I wanna stay, but edge away. I edge away.

Out their line of sight, the slight and brushing palm stand my hairs on end, as they stretch and bite at your fingertips, I fight the growing tide and hide beneath a blushing skin, to turn and see your glinting eye, the sly, enticing ice of blue that beckons me upstairs where you, adorned with silk desire, await the spark to burn your fire.