When dehydration proved to adorn my eyes

There, once, I stood unable to cry.

My feelings birthing akin newborn blossoms,

Those bastards of suffocating promises.

Striped, white skin down beachcombers plunder;

Agonizing, the quake, it shook me testing.

Quickly arriving Stoke-on-Trent, south of Manchester,

A smog-filled chamber lied under crumbled nesting.

Streaming through pale air, whispering like pale night,

A hint of you around the corner, symbiotic;

It’s just enough to keep me searching; this amniotic plight.

(I was born with time and words;)

(Nothing to give and time to think.)

I keep hearing bells…

I hope you are off the next stop?

Book in your hand, something new for me to read…?

But you know for your thoughts I will settle.

Your letters…I imagine fill my dreams.