In the Tone

She couldn't love him anymore.
She couldn't even listen to his voice
over the phone. It hurt too much.
Hitting her in ways, with means, they
always leave untold. It's in the tone.
Honed through years of passing fancy
flames into another star rimmed pit.

It never reached him there inside.
For he was riding higher than a kite.
Towering above the snow and rain.
Honing mind above the blue/gold flame.
He reveled in metallic fields of numb.
Like a machine, well fed and oiled
by the cycles of the moon. Expressing
tides of strange emotions in those
insane tunes.

He didn't care. She knew that now.
Her sympathy had dwindled, now lay moot.
Because he knew. Knew the point of all
the pain injected into her. Flew the coop
just when the nightmare eased its way
into reality. The nightmare he'd been
running from so long.

The mourning in her songs was blending
sweetly in with tones of his destructive dealing.
Abandoned in the lands of his disease.
Endless voices screaming, never saying
anything at all. Remembering the times
before he'd fallen into her. She couldn't
love him anymore at all.
It was a matter of survival, after all...

? Michaelette ?

12/18/2003
Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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