If there were time left to us
I would rip the stitches free that cleaved my lips tight shut.
For whilst you still walked this good earth
fear stole the voice from the questions that rose unbidden
and I smiled, or cried, and wondered. In silence.
Now, I hold your thoughts on pages –
thoughts hidden in a briefcase
for more than half my life.
I touch the places where you once were,
skin to paper to skin, separated by life – and death.
I imagine you frowning as you wrote
at a rickety table in a steamed up coffee shop
on a gloomy December day
like this one.
Would you have answered my questions?
Would I have asked them anyway?
Do you know?
This week were are asked to write a poetic apostrophe – something I had never heard about until now. Do you know? Whether you do or not, please do join us at dVerse, read and join in if you feel inclined!