BTW

Something flashed in the dark.

I was passing through very quickly and I put out my hand.

Now, I don’t remember why I did.

But I held my fingers out and your fingers found mine.

And then it was dark again.

Maybe you weren't ever there.

I’m remembering something that doesn’t have a place anywhere on earth,

something that began and ended at the exact same time.

 

I’ve woken up many mornings since and stared into empty space, 

where sometimes I find you at the other end.

I don’t know if you will be there each time, but I go looking anyway.

I’m not sure how much time goes by after I've found you.

At some point I release myself into the day.

Then I ask myself why I’ve done it; why I’ve gone and let go again.

I guess it’s just what I’ve gotten used to.

 

I told you recently, that

I think the tide is turning toward you, that

I think that is what this feels like.

I breathe out - I clear out space - 

and then I wait for something to come in and fill it;

strangely nothing does.

It occurs to me that it is possible just to be less heavy.

 

Tiny beads slip by me, shimmering in the light.

They float toward the place where I see you just now,

flickering steadily in the distance.

I am certain that the tide is bringing me in,

I lose my breath, and it sparks when I catch it again,

dizzying me with the thought of it.

Reviews

[hanir]

Nice to read.
Nicely written. 😊