Trail dust

nettle, thorn, razor wire
hand about the throat
such are the goodbyes

you opened your case
on the bed
and light spilled out
making the air wet
with colour
and poetry in a tongue I’d not heard

later we coiled then tore apart
skin bruised, skin peeled
skin from skin

silence rolled into the
space left empty
lowered eyes and the unseen drops
turn this no man’s land to mud

with nothing but time between us
we turned, and looked away
one trail dust
the other ice

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