Each To Their Own

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We don't even look at each other with a smile anymore
or a greeting
a formal hello.

Just a glance, a wish
of what we could be
of who we wish to be -
together.

Of what we used to be
before.
before we drifted; each to their own

When we talk
the words are few
clipped and selected
weighted and corrected

A curtly nod or a plain joke is shared
void of emotion
we laugh
but it is not golden

Is it genuine
or real?

Maybe we smile
but it is rare
and never
honest.

You smile,
that charismatic smile,
and briefly mention your 'other half.'

I smile,
that wretched smile,
and remember how it was once me.

Oh, but that was once.

A short-lived euphoria
that was meant
for someone else.

Someone, who in your eyes
is almost
as beloved

as you are in mine.

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