luggage

We carry our luggage through

The soulful mires of the blues

Our bodiced bodies, laced with pain

We bring with us the storm-led rain

Quicksand arrives of affection

Grains of lust, distrust, agitation

Together, we can brace the weight

I tell myself – my sweet heartmate

But the ground beneath us slips

They say we’re made of scraps of stars

All that remains are sparkling shards