Terminal Velocity

I lie back as Earth spins and falls
listlessly pinned against its crust;
We can’t seem to feel it at all.

Pooled on the floor’s my wine-stained shawl
We whet our mouths and barter trust
I lie back as Earth spins and falls

Voice husked in morning’s slurry drawl
You feed me poems coated in dust
We can’t seem to feel it at all

As midday hangs its firey awl
We trade our tersely tempered gusts
I lie back as Earth spins and falls

Winding starlight into taught balls
I leave the sky bruised black and mussed
We can’t seem to feel it at all

I wash and fold my wine-stained shawl
We trade no more words than we must
I lie back as Earth spins and falls
We can’t seem to feel it at all.

———————————–

First attempt at a villanelle. Tricky buggers these.

Take care,

Smithy