One Year On

April 15, 2012

Lie in a dark room
With music colouring the walls
And a city humming below

Happy with nothing
Content to speak or not speak
And sleep only a little

Trace a line on skin
To stretch time into the dawn
And repeat

Then see, one year on
Five days will go missing
Lost to happiness

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Across the aisle of the underground train
The music begins to stray from her ears
Staggering, weaving, it falls upon me
Not hard, not in anger; it is familiar
I know the peaks, recognise the refrain

And I watch as the corners of her mouth
Curl just so slightly with the sound of it
And her hands clench in some kind of caress
As if perhaps the heat from an old love
Has kindled life anew within her bones

Her smile growing now, as mine must be
She rises slow, rights her skirt and waits
Patient and calm before the doors
And I search for the music one last time
Listening for the traces as she goes

But I find, in her wake, the tune remains
And for a second it seems like a dream
Until my smile lets way to laughter
As the source becomes clear: not her at all
But a man, a few seats down
Across the aisle of the underground train