The wall shook, rock crumbles beginning to fall even as the creature living underneath and behind it began slowly emerging, escaping the barrier. The image of my own making would take years to shatter.
Let me wallow in the warmth of losing you one last time;
like sleep, let me wish for more.
Let me pumace dead skin of my heart layer by layer–
again, this time for sure.
Polished, it shines to the pulse of another now
though never too late
it is, but how
to let you slip past me in one more rhyme?