Bianca Gibson-Brown

December 15, 2003 - NSW, Australia

glassy eyes and salty rain

That thundering afternoon,
I reached for you,
Glassy eyes and salty rain.

Time was running out,
But still you pushed away,
Why couldn’t you understand?

Your eyes brush over me,
My trembling, heaving breathes mixed in the roar of the wind,
But you were deaf to them.

Please come over here,
Just a little closer, if not for me,
Then so I can whisper.

Maybe it won’t hurt so much then,
Maybe it would simply be another strike of lightening,
The type that makes you jump.

The one your mother warns you about,
Loud and unexpected
But I won’t hurt you, not as long as you stay close.

But you are walking away,
The rumble in my heart is building,
And you look – scared.

You’re shaking your head,
Pleading softly to me,
And you take another step back.

Not long now until it’s over,
But will my words give, or will you?
Either way I lose.

The quick touches,
And lingering stares,
Your cooling warmth.

That smile you give me after I do something stupid,
Oh, how I hope to see it again,
How I hope to be so stupidly in love again.

To meet your warmth,
Hold your stare,
And yearn for your touch.

And I can’t wait any longer,
There is no more time to wait,
Time stilled in those last few moments.

The panic was written all over your face,
With every strike of lightening your face grew paler,
With glassy eyes and salty rain.

All you could do was stare,
At my words reaching for you,
As the time ran out.
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