Neptune’s Grasp

By Bianca Mazziotti

Neptune calls for you.

Warmth disappearing from your grasp.

Light disintegrating in the distance.

Bumps rush over your skin.

The hairs on the back of your neck 

stand up.

You walk blindly, arms outstretched.

Searching for him.

Hoping he is searching for you.

Knowing he isn’t. 

Flesh turning blue.

You said, “The sky calls for you.”

You set me free by imprisoning me.

I thought you did it so lovingly,

but you shipped me here

to this cold dark place.

They say it ends how it began.

Now it makes sense why I always felt 

so cold in your arms.

Copyright© 2020 by Bianca Mazziotti

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