Ruptured Rapture

Rupture Rapture

We walked,

you and I,

our footsteps

echoes in the night.

Walked,

silent effigies

holding hands.

You spoke.

I listened.

You explained.

I pleaded.

We walked,

you,

I.

Through pools of dirty light

our gazes lingering

on cracked tarmac

underfoot.

We stopped.

The irony

not lost.

To be back

under that streetlight.

Whose glare had once

illuminated,

a boy kissing a girl.

We stopped there

for the longest time.

Until your fingers

slipped away.

Your hand

letting go of mine,

I waited.

Under that light.

Till the echo of your steps

were consumed by the dark.

Photo mine taken of street art by My Dog Sighs 2012.

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