between two hearts
no one can know what it's
like inside the two that
become one, we only see what they wish to share,
and the private, quiet moments are unheralded
by any news service, the privacy remains forever
inviolate as long as the two remain one.
when i was one of two instead of one alone
i would hold his hand and trace the lines in
his palm, kiss the knuckles of his scarred fingers and
i knew peace for hours at a time, a quiet inside my
raging storms of thought.
and when we were quiet in the dark i would sometimes
wait for him to fall asleep and tell him all the mushy
things he couldn't sit still long enough to hear when he
was awake. "i love you so much," i'd whisper in the
magic hours between dawn and his awakening, hoping
his heart would hear me and he would remember forever
that there was once a woman who thought he had given her
the moon and stars when he told her he loved her.
now the dark holds more ghosts than peace and the chains with
which i bind myself, while of my own making, make my journey
fearsome and i find self-loathing to be a weary anchor when i want
to set sail and fly along the path i've chosen to take.
but i still blow kisses to the north on clear, star-filled nights and i
whisper in his faraway ear, "i loved you so much," and i imagine him stirring
in his sleep and smiling...
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