Fingers interlocked in never promises,

Hair-lifting breath on my neck whispering love on

a carousel, plane ticket tucked in pockets, we

watch the maps split in half,

Countours broaden on two sides

Standing, overlooking stomach dropping 

cliff heights, chalky white walls stained

with fingernails down its sides, 

exhilaration does not exist in this scene.

Broken seas

wave their arms,

soaked feet by socks trodden in boggy minds,

Filled with sparring hands,

jabbing and taunting for ruin,

Riding to nowhere with    nothing in between,

Tides become lost on their way to shore,

No sound overlaps the sand anymore.

Wilting trees bite at the air,

devouring  gentle chunks into nothing,

Earth sickly pale beside the 

reddening thermometer which blew up

in its face,  groaning ghosts,

so we stand in the crater

wondering how it could be,

That we got so alone.