Those whispered partings

I.

Our goodbyes were like sick
whispers in the ear. They crept
into me and now they’re waiting
to be heard.

I always told you, “I never cry.”

But I did. I cried

into your freshly dyed hair as

you cried to the constant rising sun

to let you be;

to let you stand still.

But you moved anyway,

and I still see sunshine when I wake up

without you. The fading evening light

still fades. Time surges through and

around us like a stream

of consciousness. The moon’s smile

looks different now.

II.

You were my safety and comfort, and now
I feel a bit naked, a bit exposed.

I’m vulnerable to the realities that you lured

me away from. Now they haunt

the etchings

on my palm to prove that we were wrong.

III.

Take me back to our celestial sharing

of passions that bled from the thrill

of youth.

I’ve been trying to count the number of

I-miss-you’s  it will take to

reawaken me

as you once did,

but hopefully we’ll reach a time

when we can say goodbye a little louder than

a whisper.

At least I finally wrote you a poem.

Author's Note

thoughts?

Reviews

[Lasune]

A somber poem about loves last meeting, technically it works very well and is elegantly worded.

[Fejes]

Thank you for the review! It's much appreciated!