The accordion ebb and flow of
infatuation. Waltzing, Parisian
lovers entwined. They once stood
silhouetted in the hazy ember of
Sunday twilight.
Separated by a plague, their world
halted on its axis and spun the opposite.
They shout toward one another as a
fissure flexes and casts them away from each other.
Their ears cupped to hear as their cries fade and
echo; eventually lost to any reverberation.

by Erik Shinker

2 thoughts on “Echoes

  1. Yo, Eric, is it “the accordion ebbs and flows” or “the accordions ebb and flow”?, or flow of infatuation could be a indivisible idea. Something like

    “The accordion ebbs and a flow of
    infatuation, waltzing, parisian,
    entwines the lovers. They once stood (…)”

    I don’t know, it just sounds a bit strange, the way it currently is.

    Liked by 1 person

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