He stayed,
No longer than he had agreed to commit.
And he checks his beating heart,
with his white rimmed steth.

They know you
think,
That you walk like
God.
In the streets that halt time altogether.

But in your tantrums you forgot.
It was I.
That made you weak.

√

She tears the cloth now,
Slowly.
Relishing the strip,
The fabric not of threads.
But of sweat,
and blood.

And he stares,
At the shards.
Bouncing off her hands..

They ricochet with the stars
Above,
and cause time to tick once more.
And he stands there staring,
At the once proud lands.
(M.Z)