lento triste

there was a we behind the i
in love’s times past, in days gone by,
and when i wrote, i wrote for you:
the you in we, the me in two

now you surround me, like the air,
much like a scent that lingers there;
i stretch for that forgiving hand,
whose ship left port before we’d planned

the you that was, much more than this,
the we yet is, is my belief –
and life, like many broken things,
sits silently amidst the still
of grief

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5 Thoughts to “lento triste

      1. Grief is such a personal thing, we all do it in our own way but your words really sum it up, I am more impressed each time i read this… I lost someone I dearly loved three and a half years ago and the grief is still very fresh, so hard… that you for writing this, so lovely…

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