The Valley of the Ace of Hearts

The Valley of the Ace of Hearts (6th Dec 2008, 9.22pm)

The valley is the place where we begun.
Memory photo-laughs: I’m still undone.
You deal the Ace of Hearts; tell me, what
is on the cards?

A thousand leagues and just four months
since we last sinned. Father, forgive my
choice; it was a foolish one, meant to be
a summer-long, turned to golden dust
between my fingers as I crumbled beneath
your thumbs, and with the Autumn leaves,
it blistered on.

You traversed three motorways to break
my heart. How could you have let yourself,
how could I have let you start? And still I
yearn for you in your painted skin, three
years on and still, I wait for yet more pain
and welcome it in, crossing my threshold
with Russian charm,

Vodka bottle clutched underneath one arm.
You reel me in, fish from the river, salmon-
coloured like your flushed and swollen skin,
you move within and all is lost; this must cost
more than I have left. You leave; I’m bereft,
bobbing on the water as it rises. You care not:
no surprises.

The valley is the place where we return.
The leaves fall: I watch the colours burn.
And still the Ace of Smarts lingers, salty
on my tongue.