A knock at the door

I was listening to Joni Mitchel and the big yellow taxi

Eyes settled with dark surrounds
Enlarging disc’s of memory translucent in mist,
soft words fill the void of silent alarm
An alarm set off by the unwanted rapping on the outside door.

Thoughts, 
Collected in an instance of fear, rapidly expunging reality.

A whiff of cologne, 
bought last Christmas, 
worn with a faux disgust as “I don’t do smelly stuff”

The shiver of a touch upon the slight frame as fingers gently glide down the nape of the neck, a neck which will no longer feel the warmth of tenderness. 
Drying in an instant, the lips no more to feel the gentle pressure of another soul whose only desire was to please without favour. 

No more shoulder warming with total comfort as the events of the previous evening are forgiven and forgotten. 
No matter that you were the one in the wrong for doubting his total loyalty.

A selfish desire to be the receiver of less bad news than those before had been given. 
All this within a moment: 
Before, 
legs weary and shaking start the endless journey towards the source of the infernal rapping.

Reviews

[Ruth]

This captures a moment of wanderings/wonderings in precise form :) Amazing work :)
Took the reader through many avenues of thought, enjoyed very much!
xoxo