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Luke Ritchie
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Looking Glass
Slipping in and out of sleep,
I take my eyes from your ghostly face,
from the light of the mobile phone,
nightly dives that we take alone.
Steep up the shores until
the waters ebb up by the lower lids.
Darker movements scare me,
beneath the water's edge.
And as I sink beneath my wave,
there's nothing to confess or feign.
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Above a city left in ruins,
my vision starts to shake.
My lover's lost to memory,
I'll see her when I wake.
And as I glance across her neck,
the hurried pace of her feather breath,
the pain across her face,
a vision of her home ablaze.
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