What would I take with me

if you breathed your last tomorrow,

aside from memories, dashed and broken

now upon the storm, driven by despair,

what on Earth would I take

with me

as I searched in vain for you?

 

A wide open world with a single aim

to witness in the flesh

all that I could in the year

and a day I would allow myself

to exist in mourning, whilst blisters

tore at my back and festering wounds

bubbled and scorched at the edge