a new happiness blossoms before you,
from the palm of your hands,
to the crook of your arms,
at the dip of your chest,
then the base of your heart.
a new happiness that holds something
no one else could ever truly offer you.
a promise.
purely unable to be broken,
sewn together with a little blue thread
woven like it could dwindle at a glance.
softly, truly,
always.
it doesn't matter now, and it didn't matter then.
i can no longer find it in me
to pray upon falling drops of sky
and loose change
and abnormal plants in my lawn,
to hope that you'd see through my eyes,
that you'd understand every single
notion of a thought that made itself apparent
since the day you slammed the door.
but it doesn't matter, okay?
i wish you well.
i don't need anything, and
i expect nothing in return for the words i lay down.
we have no reason to bear ill will in our hearts,
not when happiness is just around the corner.
it's in my arms,
and it's in your arms too.
if someday, we find our eyes meeting again,
maybe we can share once more
the reasons behind our smiles.
until then, i wish you all the best
for you and your new happiness.
r.k.
YOU ARE READING
and the universe held my hand.
PoetryIt said softly into the open vicinity, "Let go of their hands; don't let go of mine." poetry and prose volume iv 2020-2021
