love, despair, broken hearts
The final day that we would ever stand together, just you and I. Was it years ago or yesterday? Time has a way of warping like pressed wood abandoned to the wind and sun. I remember the dark sky dribbling out discontent in warm drops. We kept silent in our own space. While the world cried out to be noticed. I held your hand in mine. Your ride arrived first. We stood, and I felt so much with no words to say it. "I love you," you told me for the first time. I stopped breathing, and the world heaved. If ever I felt an "I love you" rip through me, it was yours. I wanted to a least echo the sentiment, but the language stuck in my throat, a rusty nail pinning my heart there. You smiled, pulled away from my grasp and disappeared. I took my train home and marveled at dinner after dinner till time had no purpose. Now, I wonder what would have happened on a platform long ago if I had said, "I love you, too. Stay with me?" I'll take my sky blackened with traces of blue at the edges,
no scent of coming rain in the air because the rain already falls. A symphony of pitters and patters punctuated by the steady claps of thunder. There I can stand, sullen, lost yet somehow unafraid of crackling electric light that could just as easily escort me to a grave. Yes, I like standing in the rain because no one can claim the tears I cry. No end nor beginning that any human heart can discern between the water nature and I weep in a joint union of all that a tear can signify. |
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