In distant memories
we captured in frequent glances,
fervent smiles,
and frantic heartbeats,
my hand used to fit in yours.
It embraced me in a promise
beyond romantic overtones,
that I will always have something
to hold on to: you.

In transient times
we measured in mutual doses
of affection and attraction
and countless conversations,
I had a belief that this would last long.
It conjured a warm familiar feeling
latched onto devotion,
that my heart would always belong
to someone: you.

In a tapestry of words
that were once true,
your voice reminded me of the possibility
that happiness can exist
in this vile and cruel world we live in.
It evoked a certain melody,
a symphony of inherent rhythm,
that I will always have the answer
to the question of love: you.

In sadness and in joy,
in sorrow and in bliss,
I still yearn for someone: you.

I used to know you,
but not anymore.