Cameron Tayor

Solace

I spent
                                                                      the evening imagining.
                                                       I was a flower.                  Frail and isolated –
                                             lone standing in a         field.         A crisp sour stem.
                                                          A bold yellow                strengthening
                                                                         the appearance
                                                                                    of
                                                                                     my
                                                                                  flimsy
                                                                               petals.
                           Five.                                         Perfect.                                  Centered.
                 Eating warmth.                            Eyes closed.                      A slow waltz, dancing
         with the breeze,  bright    green   on the nose,    children   playing on the outskirts
                       laughter                                           filling                                    my soul.
                                                                                    A
                                                                                    happy
                                                                                  existence.
                                                                                No
                                                                           particular
                                                                      goal.                                                      Ant.   
When I came to, crushed and bruised, wilted, squashed neath realities boot. One restricted breath. A thought hard to repute, “life is unfair”. I laugh, then sit in solemn silence. Existing only in someone’s distant prayers. Selfishly wishing them here not there, wishing for that   
                                                                            last                                                      shared
                                                                                  moment 
                                                                                           together.
                                                                                           Two
                                                                                          weeks
                                                                                                   alone
                                                                               to                  wrap              things                     
                                                                                                          up.
                                                                                                              Then 
                                                                                                                gone
                                                                                                                    forever.