letters (hand in hand)

Your nights without end.
His days without beginning.

…waiting for daybreak.

Your night was ripped apart
by the ghosts of your memory.
…dreams trembled outside
the locked door: cold, abandoned.

Sliver of the light fires
the edge of the horizon.
East of the sky caught in a fire.

You wash the fragments
of the broken night from your face
with a handful of water.


Your dreams hand in hand with his
walk at the edge of rising sun.
© 2011 by Nina K Orlovskaya