Gates

                                                                 

At love’s heaven gate

they sit, hands clinched in sweat

lips tied together

in hue and laughter.

Their eyes clothed in terror

for an uncertain life, ever after.

The music at a distance

tells the stories of lovers

on planes, happy.

Words of mimicry

from hearts of exaggerated emotions,

painted in red,

The colour of love.

 

My hands stir at themselves,

void of sweaty clinging,

weary of separation.

Voices of loneliness

echo in ears, refusing to listen,

encumbered in false self-love.

The sight of lovers at heaven’s gate,

intimacy in paradise,

water my eyes,

tighten my lips.

The shiver in my hands

speaking louder than the thousand voices,

                                                                 All echoing, loneliness!