Shoulders slump as footsteps fade into
the darkened hallway; out of sight.
Then a click-sound of a door, shut;
punctuates a chest-heaving full-stop.

Regret now seeps across the
tidal plain, waiting in vain hope
for a reverse ebb that doesn't arrive.
Regret, only regret remains:

Strain and hear that inaudible sigh
as you lock lips in silhouetted embrace;
It was the kiss of a toxic cocktail--

It's the burnt smell of rubber
that lingers thick in the air after
the smouldered wreck on the road.

It's the ping of a pin dropping
after a grenade had been lobbed
and the afterthought of my diving --

But did I dive to shield you or
was it to duck out of the way?

Regret is the sound of pebbles
tapping off a casket lid as they
bounce from a cascade of apologies.

Still that door clicks shut -- the last time.
Your footfalls fade into the bright,
searing light of pain that is left behind.*




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