Jacque Davis
Moving still
First, the jolt,
slaps of memories
stacked like sweetless pancakes:
daytrips,
glacier-night-touches,
your parting lips,
closing.
Did we allow love to tip us
into its cavern,
stir a cocktail with our fervour,
too sweet to survive?
We did.
We descended.
The heart hauled into dissolve
by the same hands that salved it.
His. Mine. His. Ours.
Second, the aching inertia,
an abiding slope of sorrow
that tilts you toward
that too-familiar edge.
Zaps your spirit,
fast as sickness drains a child’s
flamingo cheeks.
Your world framed
by a ceaseless dirge.
Days slinking
to a drone of disconnect.
This morning, on my bedroom window, I notice the frost,
missing,
feel colder, somehow…
daytrips,
glacier
-night-touches,
your parting
lips closing,
closed.
David Hanlon is a Welsh poet living in Cardiff. He is a Best of the Net nominee. You can find his work online in over 40 magazines, including Rust & Moth, The Daily Drunk Mag & Amethyst Review. His first chapbook, Spectrum of Flight, is available for purchase now at Animal Heart Press.
Jacque Davis creates art from her home studio in Southern Illinois. Her longtime love of color, texture and stitch is evident in her richly colored and densely stitched art. She is inspired by nature and the evocative language of dreams. Her work can be seen at jacquedavis.com.