I tried to swallow heartache
but I could not keep it down;
it gathered in my throat,
all sharp angles and serrated edges,
until I had no choice
but to bleed out in ink-stained words,
‘till all my shadows were chased
and every ghost evicted.
Now all that remains to haunt me
is a mist of memories that coats
my tongue with subtle melancholy;
quicksilver and mercurial like moonlight,
yet gentle enough upon my lips
to let the love back in.