We say goodbye, short

- long - stop, the signalling code --


of: I think of you.

I think I understand hookups and one-night stands now.
The key to moving on is to replace until there's nothing to unravel upon.

I mean, It's fair.
I do it too.
Moment by moment,
conversation by conversation,  
I replace the replays,
and that is about as far as I'll go.
I can't bear the thought
of another touching me, like I'm not yours.

I got another ring today,
All big and loose.
Funny how I picked this one,
it keeps falling out.

It's been two months since I stopped wearing yours,
I honestly don't see a difference in the way it fits on my thumb.
That should be the end of it, but oh well, I guess it isn't.

I walked to the grocery store, paused at an aisle,
took my time frowning over chocolate bars.
You used to get me Munch, so I picked the KitKat.

I don't skip meals now, (well, most days I don't)
and in place of our routine conversations, I let a random show run in the background.

I drown noise with noise.

My days are decent.
I'm surrounded by mindless jibber jabber.
I participate.
I paste a bright smile.

“You look well now,” they say, “Well I am” I reply.

And as a matter of fact, I am fine.
9/10 times I am.

Then in a random mundane moment, memories of you resurface like a ring light and
in that single moment,
I let myself crumble.

“I don't want him back.
He isn't the same person anymore.
I'm not even me anymore.

If it's meant to be, it'll be.
He's the love of my life.
Well don't let him in,
when (not if) he comes back.

Do it from love, not for it.
You deserve happiness.
Both of you do.

You want love.
You are love.
The ocean doesn't look for its water,
Why will you look for what you have?

It is what it is.
and this too shall pass.”

So on and so forth my inner monologue goes,
and I stare at my phone wondering if I can conjure you from my thoughts.

I am kinder now. With myself, and everyone around.
I know you're proud,
and I kind of wish you'd say it to loud.

Can I possibly wrung out my favourite version of you, this time?

My thoughts swirl and I let them play.
Incantations in my head
Obligatory 3 am, weary sighs, contempt and pure rage.

Where is the calming lull of sleep, when you really need it to sedate your despair?

Resignation sets in, I play a familiar game.
I ask the universe and unbiasedly it delivers the same day.

"Universe, give me a sign, I'm really done this time.
Yellow flowers if he's coming back,
Dandelions if he's not.
Universe let me move on. This is the last time, "

In my version of He loves me, he loves me not
I break flowers, not petals.
I look for answers in colours and not action.

guilted into yet another
late evening dog-walk
after too long spent
indoors and weighed down
by endless introversion
trudging an unlit path
free of the imposition
of street lamp
     and headlight
with nothing except
those familiar constellations
and a degree of
     lunular exposure
to guide our path
despite the cold and
that lingering feeling
of obstinate lethargy
we firmly planted
our mud-caked boots
upon the saturated ground
unstable and clogged
as it may have been
in order to marvel
at that moment
of unexpected perfection
perhaps it was simply
a case of fortuitousness
or sheer coincidence
but to us it seems
the universe is offering
more wishes than we could
ever have hoped for

Could it be a sign?

Oh no, signs only appear --


when you don't need them.

it turns out
Mother Nature is
just as indecisive
as the rest of us
it seemed that
she had finished
with her winter
her day-long frosts
and biting winds
no longer the need
to cocoon oneself
in protective layers
when venturing out
for nothing more than
a bottle of milk
of down-stuffed coats
and twice-wrapped scarves
woollen hats
and thermal socks

it felt like
we had moved on
our spring had arrived
just in time
we could enjoy
the brisk early mornings
despite their chill
safe in the knowledge
that the gentle touch
of afternoon warmth
would shortly follow
the biggest setback
to be expected
was an intermittent
morning-to-evening downpour
dampening our anticipation
though only temporarily
of any plans we had made
until the puddles were dry
or had drained away

it may have been
a false start
but i'm loathe to say
we were tricked
or call it
an outright lie
those brightened days
were a welcome change
enjoyed by all
we were simply
carried away by
the primaveral allusions
lulling us enough
to forget the cold
and its significance
catching us unprepared
and exposed
like those delicate flowers
so recently bloomed
buried for now
beneath this weight
of snow