Pilgrimage

A lost love is never truly gone.

Once, I knew a place - a time
Where his hand belonged in mine
there is hope in hand-holding
I feel real and warm and still alive
A dream it was, as a dream it passed
Mental muscle memory takes me to it
That distant destination in the wilderness of my mind
there is comfort in walking
I am moving and moved and still alive
There are thorns here, stoic arbitrators of regret
Finely spun strands cross the way
Invisible, insistent, immaculate thread of all that is Lost
And there, just ahead, a picture of us
His eyes and, Oh, my smile
And how I knew he would not last
My heart is failing me again
I whisper deliriously - fever-wet
there was no other way
Distill me.
Purify me.
Make me small again,
And whole

Reviews

[Between the grey]

This is awesome! I totally liked this,
i can feel this write, it's emotional.