[ Pixshark]
I have your name etched on my skin, its lines and curves and slants edged in rich, deep black. I carry your face in my memory, nestled like a flash of bright white light saves the sameness of a dark spring night.
Your name is a call and echo, one that I murmur like the repeating melody of a descant; the twang of a bow’s string reverberating in the stillness of the valley air, the thud of an arrow steered unerringly as it rips into a doe’s ribcage.
Between here and there is a road to nowhere, to build they say one must first tear down, For life, a Dying first.
--- For the NaPoWriMo Day 4 prompt; a poem about Love or Lovelessness that doesn’t include the word LOVE itself.