Choppy water

In which I take a deep breath

There’s a rhythm that jerks my chain. That winds me up to creaking point. That cuts me to the tender quick.

Question – 

Answer – 

Silence.

Pause.

Question – 

Answer – 

Silence.

Pause.

Question – 

Answer – 

Silence.

Pause.

And repeat.

My stride is repeatedly drawn up short. The chords halt before resolution. My words hang in the air, wisping to nothing as they fail to penetrate ears. 

Question – 

Answer – 

Silence.

Pause.

I occasionally break the loop, with the faint hope the system will reboot. That the floundering whale of conversation will find its way back to the ocean of words.

Question – 

Silence.

Half answer.

Pause.

The whale drowns.

Tube Love

In which all is fair

The hearts in the air are visible.

Her hands are locked at the small of his back,

His arm snugged around her waist.

Unfortunately for the girl behind them, every besotted peck

Rams his shoulder into her grittedly neutral face. His lady’s

Scent courses up nostrils with the delicacy of turpentine,

Dissolving each follicle in its path.

At least I’m not that girl behind them, whose neutral façade is belayed by eyes that burn with a

Yearning to take her bag strap, wrap around cooing necks, pull.