Over

My words hung in the air

Yours for the taking

 

You caught them

In a butterfly net

And shook them out

Into an empty bottle

 

‘Saving them for later’

You explained

With an impish grin

 

 

Now you’re lying

Lifeless and wordless

And I decide it’s time

To let them go

 

I open the bottle and

Out they float

Laced with age

 

‘It’s not over till it’s over’

My voice is muted

By dust

But still audible

 

My words hang in the air

Before dispersing

 

It's over.

Reviews

[Beatrice Mars]

I love this, the images you create and the sadness and the acceptingness (if that's a word..) of the voice..