7. Crime Scene

When I walked past your
window last night
a blizzard of starlight fell
upon me.
Although I am no forensic
scientist,
I knew something had touched
me
and afterwards in the cold
light of the moon
I examined myself and saw
that there remained
icy fingerprints all along my
body, whispering silently.
I am no expert, but they
sounded quite like yours.
That is when I first came to
realise, after the fact,
That I must be a crime scene.

Is there a statute of
limitations on crimes of indifference?

Don’t you talk to me about
loneliness!
You are a seeded sphere of
life tumbling on the breath of the solar wind.
But don’t talk to me about
loneliness.
I am only a single seed blowing
in that unimaginable void.

A half memory wavers on the
path I am walking
like the moonlit tracks of a
snail
on a forgotten veranda.
I shall be careful in future
where I put my feet.
But don’t talk to me about
loneliness.

There is, by the way, no
statute of limitations.
Not for these crimes.

8