Bleak #writephoto

Bleak

glaston4-258

 

We walk, hand in hand, to the shore,

up to the small promontory, and we see our island:

it is cold today, but we don’t feel it.

Our bare feet slide over the rock,

Your empty eyes turn toward me, my love,

asking me, in silence,

if I am ready to start our voyage.

I smile, my frozen heart reaching yours,

for I know we belong there,

you and me, for ever, under the heavy stone,

below the chapel,

where once, long ago,

they burned us at the stake.

Published by

Sisyphus47

Deplorable resident of Berlin Wedding... Aspiring writer, geek, photographer and jazz lover...

8 Comments

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