After a conversation…

And in that midnight he woke me from a restless slumber and told me it was ok
to hope. For a people, but not for us.
Things need to be said but confusion is the order of the day whenever you’re near
yes, even if it’s just to say hello.
How are you doing? Is just way too much for me to fathom under the pressure I feel
knowing I won’t be happy if you find her.
I’m not the good sport Vesta was
Congratulations will not come out of me.
Tears, instead, come forth.
Congregating first in my chest and traveling north
through two chakrahs
then escape me
Sometimes I wake up with the memory of calling for you to come
lay your head in my lap
But you’re too far
Out West now, and no longer stifled by frozen pipes,
darkness that comes too soon,
and slippery streets
You dream too.
But not of me.

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