They walked slowly down the corridor streets,

eyes looking ahead for the edge of the land.

Dying embers on charred wood still smoking,

cracking between curled fingers.

Both the city and night,

quiet.

Two figures black against a growing ocean.

A long breath,

ribs, shoulders, chest,

rising and falling across hours.

a…

a…

a…

Cast me into the water,

to the titanic weight

without daylight.

To sink and sink to a depth

where I am unable to be recognised,

to be found whole –

forget the touch of my skin,

the face you found refuge within.

They are once again, unbound.

Even my piss runs clap cold,

flowing in rivers down my legs.

The air around it, cobblestones below

remain unmoved.

You linger a moment, peering down at the surface. Waiting, willing something to rise from beneath.

Somewhere, a long way off, wooden chair legs scrape as they’re placed beside a table.

spreading fire – the cave