Sunday 18 March 2018

We did well

My fetishes with your smile never cease to end. Sitting in a roomful of people, I see you look at your hands, then at me. Like those ancient mornings of our frugal past. Light years ago. I have heard that you are happy now. Someone who adores you has found his way into your heart. The heart that I imploaded in a hailstorm of recklessness. The sense of loss will continue to itch the crevices of my soul. If you would only say that you forgave. Would you say that I suffered enough? But what is enough if it doesn’t guarantee dissipation.
You smile at someone and I watch in quiet contemplation. What is it exactly that still hurts? The knowledge that you smile with another, or that you don’t care anymore, or that you forgot me, lost in your air of tranquility? While I despite having it all, gave up the one that balanced my core. We did well. You and I. Till well stopped meaning. Till fissures showed and cracks expanded. We did well for a while.

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