writing – The Light is On

Sage

I burn sage because I like the way it smells. The demons I let stay because they’re good company.

In another life with glasses raised and fire in our throats to keep us warm through the night...

After falling, breaking bones against the ground, the sky torn away replaced with flesh and blood, we laughed and laughed...

Tensed for a blow that may never fall, my back to the night and waiting...

They were handing out pieces of the apocalypse today...

A glimmer out of nothing, shadows set in shadows come alive...

There might have been a path here once, but probably not...

These things we say, quiet enough that the world has to lean in to hear us...

Out there they said some things could be remembered...

Signed, with love, an enemy...

That was me, stumbling blind in darkness like no other darkness...

There for a moment dead and gone, passing by, then into the crowd, obscurity...

the revellers in fields under moonlight, laughter and screams of something, maybe fear...

Awake and dreaming here where daylight fades...

Searching in the fray for the story’s end, last of the leatherbound secrets burned alongside the remnants of Empire...