Answerable Prayers by Tiffany Little

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Also in my mind.

'Softly she strokes the empty space
With music ringing in her ears
She hears the high voice she is blessed
But cant help but feel distressed . . .

because she cant hear YOUR voice

And once again she strokes the empty sheet
Fondles the living ghost
Whilst bells toll and chime
A joyous tear roll down her face,
carving a crevice in her cheek
from the crack she issues forth
Wrought from the inside out
Affections decorate misgivings as they array her in splendour

But there is rust
and on her lips that parting kiss
As gripped by madness the ink flows
but stolid and static and then
the violins
She can only hope that the imprint is left
And is blind to the halves
The ache grips her and yet she cannot form defeat

Pause that stunts.

Sound drips down her shoulders as she rises
attempts to dechiper what was once all clear
Let some light on the subject, colour it red
Press harder to get at what you dont understand
All in lines neater than before but no more ordered
Avoid the black smudge

Welcome to the silence of the buzzing of the heating and the introduction to worldy beauty but look once again to that empty space and fill it with your trepidations
Watch him lie under his plastic cover

so contrived
Wipe at the mascara lining yopur cheeks
Stop fraying at the edges lay back on your pillow and sleep again

Feel the wire cross the gauze
and try to block it out with tambourines and piano

these are the demons that tug at my thoughts
Risen from the empty side of the bed even as i pat them down with longing

Now let the space be filled with scrawls
So that you may lay
listen to the disturbing quiet that should have been filled with comforting sounds
And would have been if you had but turned up the volume
Watch the shadows dance and flex
Your shaking appendage
And finger the empty bed

Soft now.'


What happened to the star covered chest she wondered as the imaginary firework squeal and burst above her, And then the applause cut short by the anniversary.