An old earring
lays abandoned
dropped
and I refuse to pick it up
No longer jumping
nor spirited
rusty
with forgotten replies
If you have crashed
braking hard
“we’re free to fly
the crimson skies”
Closed arms
hands released
Love poured
dribbled onto the floor
Cynical about water
thirsty, and I’m alone and
its only love
at its worst or best
Adam F.C. Fletcher 