I grieve for the silence,

The lost words we left dangling on a seabed of emotions.

I grieve for the passive surrender,

The long wait for time to unweave the stillness.

I grieve for the bare touch of the dragon,

The hope after hope that soft caresses would restore everything.

I grieve for the barren thoughts that could have amputated all doubts,

The need for words that could have changed it all.

How your day was, what you were thinking,

How my tuxedo didn’t fit me, your take on the news,

Your foot was itching, you were sorry.

I grieve for the quietness that taught us how to sulk,

The assumptions that concretized between the unspoken.

I grieve for the long dinner table,

How we remembered how sumptuous it was despite the lack of exchange of words.

I grieve for the snaky roads that grew us a chair apart,

How thoughts became unheard, how we lost the meaning of the signs.

I grieve for the passivity of time,

I grieve for the running miles of distance,

I grieve for the loneliness enveloping our skies,

But mostly, I grieve for my pride’s

patience.

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