THE MUSE'S PAGES: dusk

March 22, 2022

ARE YOU THERE?

My pen gave me an epiphany,
don't stray too far from me.

There are things to be realized too late—
was it genuine truth or a grave mistake?
Clouds to be cleared, but don't know how to,
I act unbothered to not be a bother to you.

In your absence, your shadow becomes prominent—
I wonder if my voice intrudes on your mind as well?
We ponder on the most important stuff we doubt,
but you're distancing yourself the way I'm anxious about.

Your confusion scares me and also gives me time,
but I like it more when you're vulnerable by my side.
You're brave enough to show me a real man's fragility,
just don't stray too far so I can give you tranquility.

Those 23 months fell between the cracks in 24 days,
and I can only be honest about that in this way.
I miss the hours we spent lax with what we can share—
reaching out as I ask the wind, "Are you there?"

Remembering the day we almost forgot our restrain
as we disclosed our belief on a certain red string—
the thought of how you won't abuse my submission remains.
We veiled ourselves with the mask of nonchalance,
and we knew our answers if there was a chance,
but we both held back from the ambiguous dance.