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KW Jun 2015
To place it in a transparent box.
Shut tight.
So that you cannot access it.
So that it will be out of reach.
So that you cannot feel it anymore.
But
So that you can still see it.
And not let it happen again.
KW Jun 2015
May I kiss your on your smile?
May I discover freckle constellations on your face?
May I put my little finger in your dimple?
May I push my palms against yours?
May I talk futures, stars, universes, galaxies with you?

May I lay my head on your chest?
May I tap out your heartbeat on your arm?
May I remind you that you are flesh and hot blooded?

May I love you?
KW Jun 2015
Tossed.

Casually-with ease. No second thought?

Maybe. But this I won’t ever know. Don’t need to-but want to.

That I, human, sensitive, feeling, committed, invested, involved, sacrificed.

And you, nonchalant, aloof, robotic, hard- a stone man.

Well, that is the tint through which I see you.

Once were. What exactly was it in the end? I don’t know.

Caught? Convenient? Comfortable?

And I, the wilted flower of once was. Memories slipping, falling, petals dripping from a tap left slightly open.

As is my heart- slightly open. Healing- but still bleeding.

And yours, is it tightly shut? Forever?

Seems so.

You stone man, with your clamped heart, wounds stitched- no bleeding here.

And I, tossed.

Casually-with ease.

Fresh water, new flowers. One, two, three?

And I, waking each morning. Slowly stretching, growing, leaf-arms reaching to the rays which are my hope, my optimism, my little nurse.

Slowly.

I cannot catch up to you, so quick.

But I choose not to. Time is precious and it’s mine. Now, I am not ready. My heart is soft, fragile, gentle.

It will be alright, stitched, whole-soon.

But now, in this moment, this small stretch of time, it is not.

When I feel replaced.

Tossed.

Casually-with ease.

— The End —