“The joy that isn’t shared dies young.”
— Anne Sexton
Silence makes me gasp.
Not the quietude of two shared,
but the hollow of one…
and one.
When we must be apart,
life smolders; bears
little heat.
I must look away from you to lie,
or tell you in your eyes how I suffer
in the silence, the silence,
the awful echoless still —
one here.
One there.
* * *
For NaPoWriMo 2019, day 2.
For my beloved.
This is beautiful! Love how you structured it, visually setting apart the one and the one.
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“one here.
One there.”
Perfect pause and tempo!
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