ageing love

full stops along the ragged path;
the light is near.
though I may be drowing,
i’ll let the water coarse the creases on my cheeks
with wooden staff i’ll trudge the red sea
bottom’s up, split apart.
my blood flows colourless;
i’ll not tear.
salty love is meant for movies,
aged hands are meant to break the 4th wall.
only those who love,
know the scratches on the floor,
broken nails,
broken heart.

when the path splits into two,
i’ll sit along the pavement,
and wait for your return.

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