Two Hearts & a Dream

By Akshar Dave on Unsplash

Years, months — or a day — since eyes last met

Perhaps my subconscious’ conjuring,

in the midst of which I wake up — in a sweat.

Or merely the mind’s attempt to fill the hole…

Perhaps more accurate a representation...of my perception,

than the reality. Who knows.

But it is a painful secret to keep,

and a hard-enough price to pay.

A reckoning of ample pain and stress,

for after all, how can someone give away…

something they no longer possess?

I collected shells, I built a box.

Bought a tree, passed up on Fort Knox.

And delicately, deliberately, all along

… packaged something — always to me it belonged.

And my outstretched hand, it lingered too long,

You never took it— was it I that was wrong?

Wrong — wrong, to come on too strong, but I’ve given it now,

and now it's gone.

And to those future, potential companions?

I’m admittedly ashamed — all the while warily aware,

That I can never reinforce something that isn’t there.

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