The table's filled with folks my heart beats for,
The pizza is topped with all things delicious,
Cranberry margarita goes down my throat like its second nature
My lips quirk up, warmth spreading through the moment.
Yet, beneath the surface, a feeling persists,
A feeling that eludes words,
It knocks at every window,
Turns every door knob,
Stomps on every creaking floorboard
A presence that starkly reveals my ignorance of it.
Is this feeling a whisper of the missing piece,
A fragment that lives far across the ocean,
A piece that won't be reunited with the rest for a long while?
The snowy land listens to his wheezes,
His crooked smiles glimpsed only through a phone screen
His penchant to annoy me, godawful singing, constant snack-munching,
Will it become a thing of the past?
Will time dilute our bond, or will this separation strengthen its essence?
YOU ARE READING
A budding writer's collection
PoetryJust a bunch of poems written as and when I feel to write them
