In the late along a road from a city lights in fade back to bleak, cold and quiet through the silver wash of car splash, inside her head, a car crash, the moon held her soul
instead of crumbs of bread she trailed tears, each one a silver drop little lakes for ants slugs on gravel black, a puddle on she walks stiletto through rubble an ankle wobble slip sprained and collapse her head a hit with the bricks
above she looked heavens bruised purple blue and curtains pulled and sky revealed a ballerina of herself grace and circles swam the clouds and twist around a glowing globe of eyes of wolf of wooded of treaded path and paper shredded letters, undelivered no more, no more, talking no more his eyes no more his mouth hanging no more, no more sorry
the raindrops tapping fingers the fields combing, waving the house stood a still gravestone and the road a car running headlights beside the kerb a cold kill reminder an outstretch, a far reach to a path an island safely
she contemplated she diving board readied she open lips spoke a final thank you upward for the black, the tarmac bed she cracked like a nutshell while the moon held her soul.