Losses

by vermismeridiem

There he sat,
his Love like
A piece of charred
Coal

Following
Its most radiant
Hours.

Smoldered
In the afterglow
Numbness,

Yet
He carries
All the same
Passion and
Intensity

As he had
When first falling
In Love—

Only now having
To confront
A certain
Burning absence,
That’s all.
.

.

.

Perhaps, in some delusional but understandable way,
He was just crazy and strong and foolish enough
To solely allow the more miraculous instances
Linger and live on,
And to nurture them as a lasting beauty—
All in this ambivalent, erratic sea of sentiments
On the planet of Love.

The only sentiment he can rightfully cling onto
Is that the Love he shared was True,
And that alone is utmost cherish-able—

The absolute Divine awakenings and rescues,
Gifted by a True Love—

So much so that,
He shall only look back,
All grateful, bittersweet
Saline in tears,
Dissolved in understanding,
And wiped away in smiles.

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