Thirty-Two: Loose Ends (Poem)

Thirty-Two

Loose Ends

Empty space better left to fray, and,

Ashes dancing in the wind with tiny messages

Too small for anyone else to read.

Only we had the telescope, but even then sometimes –

The lens was stained with smoke.

Our lungs became filled with the toxic

but every day, we couldn’t wait to inhale the fumes.

Every day, we couldn’t wait to die.

It was a Russian roulette of the heart,

and maybe even very chamber contained a bullet

Except one.

Things always seemed to be reverse with us.

One day, the trigger was pulled and the match was lit.

How could we know which would have a bleeding heart

and which would suffocate?

We couldn’t.

Too much empty space left to fray.