Beneath the moonlight,
the city breathes.
-
Its body bleeds.
-
They equalised the violence
while I shed another skin,
chameleonic creature
desperate to fit in.
-
The vision of you
brought it back in sharp waves,
the saxophones played,
past lives dismayed
beneath the edge of each blade.
-
The streets like a maze,
our shared gaze turned bloody
the rain turning the dirt thick,
wet, drenched and muddy,
-
we wander home, lost to the shifting city-
scape, no escape but I never
trusted much in fate
the illusion of feeling safe,
anything could change at any moment.
-
I run
Is it okay now? Is it safe again?
I run
-
and find no peace, being
served exactly what I feared all along.
-
I never saw you again,
enveloped within ever-emerging streets
which, like water, push me along,
unwilling, unwitting,
towards my own end.
-
I leave the gun behind,
try to wash the blood off of my hands,
and lose my breath one more time
while the moon grins and my head
spins.
-
The city bleeds.
-
Is it okay now? Is it safe again?
-
The question I’m forever asking
knowing the answer, but too afraid
to admit it.
-
No.
-
Beneath the moonlight
the city breathes,
but I hold my breath and feel time running out.
About the Creator
Reece Beckett
Poetry and cultural discussion (primarily regarding film!).
Author of Portrait of a City on Fire (2020, Impspired Press). Also on Medium and Substack, with writing featured… around…


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