Once We Had a Word for This

His breath drawn in,
the clock still chimes
marking the time
between their breathing
and breaking of promises.
In mumbled words,
she can't explain
why she's drowning like an infant in the sea.
Screaming is this all there is for me and you?
She grabs her coat and walks out the door.
The night is old
so still and silent,
far too quiet.
He stares at the space,
waits for a sign,
one that can never come.
And he's bound to this place and time.
Tethered, choking on his lines.
Drowning like an infant in the sea.
Screaming is this all there is for me and you?