Old foe, lost lover:
are you lonely, do you weep?
Try as I might to leave you,
with all your time-worn aliases,
we are still other-bound and
will not come unchained.
Master and slave, villain and victim,
peddler of opposites
your face appears in every mirror,
photos speak an inescapable truth.
From where you stand, refusing stillness,
everything abandons you, the solitary
runner pursing an unreachable horizon
and I wonder whether you are ever lonely,
to be ever doomed to your path.
So we are both trapped. (Are we?)
When do you sleep? Where?
Who is waiting for you?
What colour are your tears?
I have more questions for you
But I fear we are out of time.
(11 & 22 February 2015)