there was a moment in time
when death sat beside me on a park bench
and he had rested his hand on the gap between us

i,

too,

rested my hand there
and brushed my fingers against his

and for a chaste moment
i savoured the warmth of his skin
and intertwined my hand with his

but he stood up

and left

and maybe he knew,

it was for the better.

Alarm


I don’t wind my clock

anymore, last time it

rhymed and chimed

with the vibration of

a bomb waking me

prematurely from a

  dream that turned

   into a nightmare.