Thursday, 1 December 2011


Where is your hand? I miss it so
        smooth out my skirt, untangle my hair-
        eyes cast down hide an anxious stare.
Time will heal wounds as spring melts snow:
one knows what's true, but even so-
sweet fictions are easier to bear,
than having what was, no longer there
but it's time: I must let you go
though just before you walk from me free,
please hold my hand, this one last time-
       so I'll remember what was mine:
       dreams, memories: a life once shared
ending now to divide this we,
       two souls once united, bound and paired.

(a 10 year work in progress, abandoned and then reviewed and then abandoned again. no more after this)

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