Every morning, your picture sits in front of me
I see you every time I look up from my writing
It focuses me more
My story is centred on you
From the past, events build the backstory
You revised the currency of your new being
The phantom fox extends it into infinite possibilities
You are chased across the pages
Nothing is clear until the turn
Your true personality explodes
I couldn’t see this before
It’s driving my new chapters
Now the picture takes me onwards
In the evening, the side light bathes the photograph
I watch it as the darkness fills my room, it colours my words
The pages develop into where we should be
Where we should end
The means is lacking somewhat and I am at a loss
I look at your glowing image colouring my study brown
I have difficulty thinking on as the world is brown
My heavy eyes see little, so I rest
The coffee is bitter as it descends my throat, scalding me
I sip again and suffer more
The flaming fire burns at me as I huddle closer
I peer into the flames that flicker scenes
Dance characters across the coals
The fleeting glimpses miss my mind
They play like clouds on a summer’s day
They do not rest long enough to form
I look back at the desk, your image still stares at me
Haunting me across the room
The ending waits as I finish my coffee
The pain jabs me as it goes down
It’s like a stabbing dagger landing in my gut
I see you cutting there
I see you jabbing over a lifetime of indiscretions
There is only one way to go
I see it happening to the end
I take the picture from the frame and throw it into the fire
You look back at me, the edges smoulder and burn
The image lasts for what seems an age, until you are gone
I poke you into the coal and dust
x
wee kingdom writing 