in faded breath
and bated bliss
his head bowed down
her hand in hair
.....it has come to this.
I want to speak heart-to-heart
but the shallow mouth-to-mouth words
build a wall in between us
and though we're nose-to-nose
it's so hard to see eye-to-eye
so we sit in silence, side-by-side....
Through the "how was your day, it was good" 's
idle fingers weave bridges between lands that had once contoured each other,
every nook and cranny filled with "i-don't-understand"'s
so that the interlocking fingers are locked and one can no longer enter..
we have nothing left to ponder-
we are fated to wander and in pretending, hope that we will somehow transcend this bitter end and win through,
as though it ever meant any less to lose...
shall unhappiness follow us, whatever we choose?
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