I can no longer have the last laugh
for it reminds me of the silent pauses in between
and what I must return to in the darkest depths
of your absence.
I saw you at the grocery store the other day
and my butterfly wings took flight as they often do
in times of danger and discomfort.
A memory repressed returns twofold
and I had buried us a thousand times.
The truth is sour enough
to be demand extraction from our tongues:
We are not who we thought ourselves to be.
You held a mirror to my love and I to your essence.
Repulsed, we confused the object in our hands
with the figures gripping the edges.
I let you go gently,
our memories pulsing quietly through my heart
as I silently send you the last of my hopeless love.
Our whispered song finally fades into oblivion
and I am met with a forbidding stranger
who can no longer recognize the melody.