A grey shore between day and night,
between death and life,
the boundary that cleaves us apart
though we cling to it.
We walk side by side in shadows of ashen pallor,
in water that numbs our tired feet.
The minutes scurry through my grasp, and here, this grey shore,
this no man’s land where the walls whisper with silken lips
of all that has gone,
in words that shrivel beneath their insignificance.
Do not ask me to let you go.