where once a breath was lost
blood short-circuited, searing
without a hotline to the heart
this place, burnt underneath my skin
beautifully, with the fire of the evenings
the sunset, watched over the kitchen window
a bare branch, skeletal peace
a turtle dove calling,
a light
a flight from unspecified captivity
a footpath through the night
longing, loss,
leading my pulse
back to that forgotten, beating centre
