What sparks, the flicker of your heart, the detritus of hope and hurt

left in a distant burning trail.

Signals bouncing off unseen waves, surprising strong, sneaking past defenses, nets cast to repel the unwanted, troubling thoughts, dormant desires, sparked by memory as the pieces of you and I bounce and return.

Seeming gone, cast skyward; absorbed by time and distance, erased.

Hearts told not to cry.

Yet a billion billion pieces of dust ride the universe where nothing is lost, but swirled, returned in tears; collided, coalesced, bounced spinning, repelled, collected; the hurt rubbed off, bruised love.

Take in again the air, taste the necters.

There is silence when we do not breathe.


About michaelstephendaigle

I have been writing most of my life. I have written at least three complete novels, have three others started and on my website is the draft chapter of the latest effort,"The Swamps of Jersey."
This entry was posted in BooksNJ2017, Greater Lehigh Valley Writer's Group, Hot in Hunterdon; Georjean Trinkle, Imzadi Publishing LLC, Michael Stephen Daigle, Mystery Writers of America, Poetry, and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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