I wasn’t running away,
I knew the issues, really,
each one fermenting deep, and only
some unlikely conversation
might hold some rewarding emotion,
perhaps just a look
of understanding,
but the nightcap proved deadly,
the quiet so astounding, her
answer echoed for minutes,
and I opened the massive door,
bloodying my thumb on the lock,
slamming the door: intentional
you ask?
yes, but the night air
compounded the echo, and my
footsteps splashed along
the alley's mud, until
I turned the corner alone,
the shadows of souls
ratcheting roundly off bricks,
the old church chime
sounding oblivion.
Love Tinka
~~martin~~