Speakeasy #147: Carpet-Grass

There was a time when things were different.
It used to be like the light-hearted sun,
Perambulating up through the clouds,
In a far-removed mountain-cottage,
With the lush of life in full bloom.
Or like the mesmerising lull of the waves,
Collapsing before our feet before sheepishly
Drawing back, just like when
I chased you on the wide carpet grass and you collapsed,
Laughing, and with me beside you, defeated, willingly.
That wandering sigh, as I knew, would escape you,
The wing-searching wind stirring with you.

When did it all diminish?
Like the pollen of the green in your garden,
Held carelessly, and so lost forever to the wind;
Like the rocking boat that delved into a brewing storm,
Calm long gone, the watery grave, your relentless force,
Crashing onto the hull, bleak, tormenting
Me, leaving me helpless
To your irrational temperament.

You just walked past me, avoiding my searching gaze,
Hurried, but still I sensed that deafening silence within you
Threatening to make you drop the act in a single exhale
And to now run to me, looking into my eyes
So we can both read each other like we used to
Break that silence
Not with words – we never did so.
With your hands clasped tightly around my back
Your eyes, softened, defenseless
Just you,
A release
Of hurting tears

I know you will,
But not when.

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