Anemoi )one to one(

After the burning.
 
Lift the lid and let waves
flood cobblestones and corridors -
the damned find their bare feet
washed clean of youthful mistakes,
and your eyes linger, wide,
visceral panic I've seen painted  
on the walls of time,
you and I, tongues tied,  
your fists, my insides.
Let ourselves down, fall out,
fall around, drown
in the weight of your tears,
the rouge you've left
on my left side.
And the rain pours,
shatters on rooftops,
petals from blanched skies,
your voice and mine,
we avoid the elevator,
take a first and second door.
Gule gule doesn't hold enough heft,
lost on the wind, red coat,
your fragile finger beds,
intruding on palms and walls.
I clear the room,
smashed plates, wood and again,
listen to the radio uttering vulnerable winds,
wonder
if you feel you can still lean on me,
have a place to be,
all paint, solidifying.
I lift the lid and let waves,
cut through valley and gutters of us,
ponder where we will begin
when we begin again.
Walk home,
empty of feeling,
tired of diving
far too deep
for one woman to go.