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--

only you--

it's requited.