The Absent Hallows

It wasn’t much of a conversation. It was “yep” and “hello” and “goodbye” what took months to build up was lost under ten minutes. Is there a way to work this? There must be an answer here. When all I have are doubts I bet on loneliness, and once there, I see what was truly in front of me- or do I? Methinks I see little but what is before, before she was all that stood in front of me in between me and some destination, and now I see roads before me, turning every which way and I yearn for the familiarity I know. I yearn for it and am empty without it. I find I need filling. But I cannot truly love her if I know nothing of myself, and if she loves me she will understand this. She is content with her cosmic positioning but I, alas, am not.

I feel weak without her holding up my knees
A pillar, a support
To hold me up up up!
Could not I wallow a moment longer?
Why does play time need to end?
When I became a man I put away childish things
And distracted myself less and less
I found the joy in all the things I do
And do not that which there is no joy
For there is nothing like it yet.

Back and forth
And back and forth
My heart beats side to side
Send a bird to catch a bird
And with each whisper sigh
And fly from me up to that tree
Where she rests in Verdant Verdancy
And deliver her my love,
this sad and strange sweet poetry
I cannot speak the words forsooth
Such words are harsh unto the heart
But on the wind they gain a flutter
A sweetness savory like a fluffernutter
Which may be lost in open interpretation
Communications not my game today
I’m an Olympic nontranslator
But take such bold a word as I might here give
And with it take such comfort
That might feed life, dare I say feed joy to that secret part of self where I just may be locked away, and keep it not on the Summer air that carried me away, keep it there locked at night when breezy and the cool wind blew through and laying upon pillows stacked against the door, lights out the moon shines down and holds you in my arms as slumber softly intrudes and nudging me nuzzlingly to come and join the slumber fun from meadows far away in your head when nights were doves flying about under cover on your bed.

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