In the end we are just
two people hanging off
the edge of a cliff,
the edge where your body
meets mine, burnt now,
charred black, like bread
you forgot you were baking,
in the oven of our hearts,
we sit, hand in hand, daring
to hope that our lives are
like a Phoenix, waiting
to rise from ashes,
these are the ashes that
they place in jars and watch
for decades, dusted
back to their stone
root, in these pastel
coloured pots we are
held, hands clasped,
trapped in the moment
before we fell into
the sea