ruminate

though we are as far apart
as the peak of sun and moon

i am afraid that the distance
between synapses falls shorter
and so i think of you.

in the late hours
when my body is dead
and my mind rages
it turns to the past
and considers:

i could not heal you
because i have never
been able to heal myself.

rumi said that the sky
will bow to your beauty
if only you do
and i told you of this
hoping that i could
believe it myself.

you taught me however
that i am useless
when it really counts
and to always doubt miracles
because the good isn't often
as good as it first appears.

your lies embittered my trust
and thus eroded the hope
that i could keep on caring for you.

realise, please, that all our tries to
lose ourselves in our senses
failed.

you can find a metaphor anywhere you look.

(copyright a(scetic)verse, February 26th, 2008)