Divulged in the dark
Told at twilight
Spoken in silence
It’s late right now
I’m not tired I can never get tired
On the weekends
There is no you
So I’m up at the kitchen table
Confessing a secret to a lined sheet
Ink cannot be erased
Today; every day, we are inches, feet, millimeters away
But not together
The glass is always half-empty
And distance is defined by
And maybe tonight, if you haven’t driven to the beach
Or the city
You might be in the same town
And you could be awake at night; And
If we were lovers
I would be amazed at the close proximity
But tonight
you
and As soon as we are sure I
are of a man's attachment, we become indifferent apart
As soon as our hearts are contiguous
And our minds run parallel
Our souls will touch
Many points to the discoverer of this poem's mystery!
ReplyDeleteJust a cool secret
Har har har...
I think I know...
ReplyDeleteI remember when you first read me this poem about a month ago. I can tell you worked on it and you've done a great job. It's perfect and visually great as well. I couldn't help but read those spaced words slower and actually felt the distance and slowing of time, like I'm sure the weekends feel when apart from you know who. Beautiful job Em!
Sis Green