I exploited dusk with starlight
to see inside you once more,
reminiscing parodies of life,
you asked for friendship
and I gladly offered
all my purpose bereft.
The winding adventurers,
too caustic to stand alone,
from wake, nor fray,
through dizzying decay,
with nefarious reach.

Our dictionary became
who we were on new pages,
we, anathema confidants
of allured annihalation.
Reinforced against whim
of Gods so old
existing was all
they strived to recall.

And did we fall?
Only into each other’s arms.


Poem © Phen Weston 2015


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