Three Act Play (Poetry)

Act One — The Split

Sun was a knife that afternoon
it severed our shadows — split
lives that co-joined
then you trailed behind
in shock I suppose
I went off home
to freedom — alone.

Act Two — Conscience

Dull sounded the song —
a dirge on Love’s drum
the chorus of conscience
your name echoed on
dragging its blame
shrill as some ghost
with its woe-clanking chain.

Act Three — Exorcism

The bottle, the dance —
all care’s clean eclipse —
with memory wiped
by the moon’s tipsy trance
and a cool stranger’s lips —
that old knife ocean-deep
bloody from carving
guilt’s final sleep.