Sine qua non and election's affirmation
Knowing the unwritten and unrevealed
But, alas enlightened eyes see not its kind
Adrift in sea of strangers bearing the mark of man

Cain's Mark

You are her perfect definition of almost. 
The lost piece of puzzle,
 the half-done painting;
the imperfect photo. 
You are her unfinished sonata, 
the music she can never sing
and the song that can never be played. 
You are her unread pages and torn sheets. 
You are her unfinished poem-
her untold thoughts;
the scribbled words in her paper. 
You are the unrevealed story-
the almost lover. 


*-Steph Dionisio,  November 14, 2017*