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Jan 2014
the lights from the street below
shine weakly into the silent room
she lay in the tangled sheets
staring off into the night
a television set oddly turned to face the wall flickers while
its low volume garbles its incessant whispered babbling
like some deranged man talking to himself
the scents of ******* thick in the air
there is a tray of food gathering dust
a bottle of wine untouched
she is motionless
the **** skin of her face glistens in the
shifting shadows of her silent thoughts

i sit in the hardback chair
with difficult breathing apparatus trailing my mental footsteps
i tread carefully through the narrow dark wood
of her languid eye with small talk
laying out a feast of interesting topics
she is not hungry

a storm flashes lightening far out to sea
images come to the mind of a ship chasing the dawn
desperate to break free of the natures fury
and the captain at the helm
heroic figure standing fast against the odds
holding to the wheel and shouting to all hands
the rain falling in tangled sheets
focus returns to the room
she is falling motionless entangled in the beds sheets
i am the brave helmsman standing fast
this ship has already sunk

daylight appeases the minds of the
littered minefield of broken and bent on the bedroom floor
so they now allow begrudging paths safely to be seen
her eyes have closed
sleep
the dust encrusted food and the stale wine
make a feast for the birds who's small wing fluttering
are the only sound
the sun's heavy light falls in a narrow shaft
that glows against the dark wood background
i slowly ease my hand into its warmth
like a swimmer testing the waters
i dive in
and my soul swims the shaft of light
up to the bright world
leaving this place of shadows
and this woman of darker dreams

she awakens hours later
to find me laying on the floor with one hand extended out to
where the sun once held sway
laying there wrapped in my dreams of liquid light
dreaming of the day just past
and the days to come
she lay next to me
and cups me in her arms
while weak lights from the street below
shine up into our quiet room
mark john junor
Written by
mark john junor  54/M
(54/M)   
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