You said goodbye
as if it wouldn’t be
a lifetime
before the next hello,
as if it was farewell
to an afternoon
rather than a future.
Each time I picture
the way you waved
or the sorrow
spreading across your face
like shadows on a cloudy day,
I wonder if that
was the best way
to remember,
if the memory
of your pain
at losing me
that day
would have been better
than hating you
years later
when life had turned us bitter
and left us wanting
for those moments
we spent
when we thought
they were all we had.
Perhaps it’s better this way
because I remember
your love
instead of resentment
for the life
you could have had
if I had stepped
onto that bus
and disappeared.
But my heart says it’s not,
that it wouldn’t have
ended this way,
not with us,
but isn’t that
what everyone says?
So perhaps
I’ll see you again
to tell you all about
the things you’ve missed,
the things I have longed
to tell you
in the deepest of nights
when I couldn’t
sleep or
dream or
for wanting of
your arms
and face
and lips.
Perhaps our story
was never really over,
that land
dividing our touch
is just space,
vast but crossable space
and one of us
just needs
to take a step.




3 thoughts on “Space

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s