day to day i travel, i work.
i do my deeds, and i am happy to do them.
i come home. i am content.
there is nothing wrong. tomorrow, i'll do it again.
but in the back of my mind, there is a retreat.
a garden--it's shared between you and i only.
there we visit often and sing tunes of love and loss.
when we meet in the garden, my mind's pupils dilate.
i'd love it to stay here forever, somehow.
our rendezvous in the folds of my grey matter.
your heart in my heart in my pink matter.
saying all the things I had wished to say before,
reciting each line like some ancient orator of Greece.
imagining your expressions as I pour out my contents
and water the plants of our garden with it.
could we be this way forever, you and I?
still young in this version, and complete?
trepidation: knowing it only exists inside me,
and to you, it simply never exist.
i knew you loved me a long time ago,
but we were foolish and timid.
we never said a thing.
too late now, on separate paths diverging--
not regretfully, but reminiscence is key.
i say, hold your head in my hands metaphorically.
i will carry the weight in my dreams,
until the morning comes and we've got to go.
rest yourself all inside me.
i know and you know only we could be this close.
i am sorry. I wish I were braver.
i'll accept your apology, too.
just know when it's quiet and the sun has gone down,
i think of you--