Your voice
speaks little to me.
What I hear,
is stifled
by this wall between us.
Once thin
as a bridal veil,
now,
concrete,
reinforced with steel.
We agreed that it
was best if we had
something between us,
to protect us
from each other.
Gone are the days
we grew up
in light and laughter.
Where was the danger then?
But everywhere,
in our deadly garden.
You made a crown of thorns,
and we laid down
in beds of Hemlock,
Belladonna on the breeze.
We ate the berries
and never sickened.
How far we have come,
to where our fear
condemns our virtues,
and if it were not for this wall,
I would hunt you down
and kill you.
Listening to you speak,
soft echoes,
barely a language
that I can understand,
knowing you plan my death also.
Eat,
and sleep again.
Return back
to my simple sentry.
Waiting for the breach,
for our reunion
will be the stuff of legends.
HG – 2020
