Concrete Floor
Tai Chi
Resting her supple skin on the
concrete floor, grazing the slabs
in sombre shadows.
From north to south,
the sun runs distant to
her reach. Rising each morning
with a brush of life on her cheeks.
Her husband dancing to the motion
of the liquid air. Emotion caressing
the tips of his fingers.
Braiding and riding through her
hair like in their youth.
The husband flowing to the sound
of silent sirens; the birds humming
distantly.
She rests her supple skin on the
concrete floor, knowing one day
will be the last time
