you may call it
the final goodbye
but it isn’t.
our love is stronger
than time and space,
yet it flows only one way.
our love is yours alone.
we will not meet
in another lifetime.
i know this within myself.
it was karmic.
i learned what i had to learn.
if it hadn’t been with you,
it would have been with someone else.
we cannot worship humans
as if they were gods.
we cannot give our love to another
without first loving ourselves.
i know
you write hoping
that i am still reading your poems
every single day
like before.
yes, i am.
not because i still love you,
but because i am waiting
for the day you wake up
from this fantasy.
the day your poems
are no longer about me,
about how i am your muse,
your goddess.
my love for you has dried out.
it has aged.
a dead tree does not bloom again.
all i can do now
is move on with my life.
i wish you could do the same.