A poem of sorts.
Remember how we never crossed oceans to be together? Never bathed in moonlit pools, never looked to the ceiling of stars above our heads. My empty hands have never held yours, lips holding all the kisses never shared, and words from our mouths, never were.
I didn’t drink wine straight from the bottle in a backyard that never existed beyond a fence. I did not plan a trip with friends, in a van with broken air conditioning, and muddy boots lined up outside the tent. We didn’t sing along to the radio.
Together, heads bowed above a book which may or may not have been written. You would have watched the shape of my mouth, making words, you never heard.
Pomegranate jewels, and soft skinned raspberries, never fed to you in the shelter of linen sheets. Never cried there, never asked for more than I could give. The red juice may have stained our fingers.
We didn’t dance, slow, or silly. No dip, no spin, no tango lessons. We didn’t travel all the way to Rome to feast, and to learn how to make pasta by hand. We didn’t stop by Paris on the way home, to make it my favourite city.
No windswept beach in the middle of winter, no prickly heat on a summer’s day. Season-less, timeless, I was never yours, and you never even existed.
I know the love that never came, the struggle, such fervent nothingness, the beauty of what may have been. No promises were made and/or broken. No shivers of longing, and late night talks. Imagine safety, imagine forever.
Take care, It’s lonely out there.