Originally published on NEJE Writers, a platform for showcasing writing.
We watch with the lights off
Wide-eyed at our windows, whole landscapes apart
As ribbons scythe the clouds wild and wind-driven
Tying knots with hot light
Splitting the distance into branched paths
I stretch out a hand to reach through them
Across the burning sky
Forking-up the last of my fear
To hand to you
Can you hear it, love?
That crackle it makes in the dark