Moon

Ali stretched his hand towards the night sky and pulled down a crescent of milk-white seaglass, polished smooth by decades of waves. ‘Here is all the moon I can reach,’ he said. His lover smiled in silence, her eyes full of starlight. She touched the glass to her lips.

Talking about David (2)

I can’t say no to beauty. That’s why you brought me flowers, plate-sized sunflowers that sizzled, blood-red roses dripping dew…. Then one day – Leave them there on the floor. I can smell your betrayal through the crushed chrysanthemums. Walk away and leave me with the broken vase. I could name the pieces poetically but now the glass is only a function no longer needed. Be proud of what you have done.