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Contributor: Ben Riddle

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Her eyes apologised in the moonlight,
her smile alluding to sins committed
as we had learned to love one another.

She was clothed now, in an old shirt of mine;
and she wore it better than I ever had,
confident as I was always meant to be.

Beneath the sleeze, I saw a tattoo,
an image of a dreamcatcher,
like one from my own childhood.

It made me smile, and wonder whether
the dreams that my own had caught
would look anything like my life now,

or whether the dreamcatcher on her arm
would do anything to help me keep her.

- - -
An aspiring writer from Perth, Western Australia, I write to better understand love, truth and relationships, often to the backdrop of nature.


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