Night Fall

we lay beachside
and practiced the ancient art
of dissemble in the tide.
I entrusted a seagull
to carry a word to you,
but it flew out across
the ocean's sucking infinity,
leaving me speechless
and you unheeding.
oh well, never mind -
we, a laugh and a bright eye
only needing,
got out of the hitch with our skins,
proceeded to sew them together,
making a Siamese sweater,
our thirsting, burnt-out skins.

night fell hard
and broke a couple of young bones.
we lay splintered underneath,
covered even up to the head
by those black sheets,
the seagull's gentle cry
now a demon after blood,
or souls, or eyes.
deafened by that worldwide thud,
I held to you in our be-crittered bed
of seething, salt-specked sand.
you rubbed my small boy's head
with your best mother's hand.
my whimpers subsided, yes,
but it wasn't enough.
the world now was divided,
and you on the other side of the wall.
fear seized me as your hand went rough:
I didn't know you, love - at all.

Geona Edwards lives in Spain.

^

Biography

Geona Edwards lives in Spain.