Thursday, December 22, 2016

Selling short.


It’s a warm day, and I reminisce -
Am I dwelling in the weather,
Or is something amiss?

As snow crunches slowly under my feet,
(And I Yelp brunch places nearby to eat)
I think of my journey of 13 long years:
Have I grown wiser, conquered my fears?
Though I don’t have your initials carved in my arm,
I took on your name, I visited your farm,
I learned your jargon, befriended your kin,
Kept you in the loop, invited you to din.
Was your solo audience, your biggest fan,
Enamored by your wit, charmed by your pan(ache).

But who am I? An illusion, a daydream forgotten fast,
Teenage memorabilia, a memento from the past?
A photograph in your album, a number in your phone book,
A random hug in the middle of the night, or maybe I’m just a crook.
But I would move mountains to keep your dreams alive,
My best kept secret, always by my side.
You were the perfect song in my playlist of life,
With a voice that melted icecaps, and eyes that lit fires.

But I stop short, hold back my secret smile
I see decay, a barren wasteland stretched for miles.
While I fill up bottles and set them adrift,
You keep on rowing, alone in your ship.
You float in the midst of the signs,
And have been privy to all my designs.

While I could press delete and make promises till October
(And try to be provocative when I’m not sober)
I’ll say in my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith
Till next November (or till you believe) – I’ll wait.

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