Tie Me To It

Six months later, like a surplus reprieve, I found a hair the length of yours on my sleeve. I wound it round and round my finger so tight. It turned to purple and a pulse formed inside.

And I knew the beat since it matched your own beat. I still remember it from our chest to chest and feet to feet. The easy silence then was a sweet relief to this hush, of ovens, aeroplanes and distant car horns.

You can only take what you can carry. Your pulse, it's the only thing I can remember. I break but you don't. I was always set to self destruct though. The fire cracks and barks like primal music.

I said I knew the beat 'cause it matched your own beat. It's become my engine and my own source of heat. The sea between us only amplifies the sound waves. Every hum and echo and crash paints my cave.