in another time, perhaps miles of anguish
and tunnels of panic away from now,
our bone breaking pursuit will
finally be over.
absolved of our stages of shared guilt,
undisturbed by our candid stitches,
we will have found the safest nowhere,
the perfect place for abandonment.
there, a grey empty shore will open for us,
the way death greets its chosen ones
with the relief of a long-expected departure,
and all our stories of love and hate will find their awaited sleep.
without a word, without a glance, we will sit next to each other,
the coldest shoulders faintly converging in softening void,
empty yet free from the illusion of separation.
as our own sentenced hands will drown the terrible masks,
we will no longer be flesh and bone, but unreachable ghosts,
marching away like pale disarmed soldiers.
in another time, in a scene of petrified wilderness,
beneath the stillness of perfectly pure black water,
our hunting blood will finally find home.
