Ghosting
I would have
had this end differently;
a reconciliation or
at least a tumultuous explosion
that lit up the sky
rather than the pitiful
indoor fireworks,
a disappointing pop, puff of acrid smoke.
It fizzled out uninspiringly
a pale shade ghosting,
hidden under
lightly used bedsheets
an extroverted people pleaser
an introvert gasping
for the middle ring.
Maybe it was doomed
to fail, but do I regret
our paths co-joining?
No, I’ve enjoyed
meandering a few turns
around the wheel,
the people we spoke to,
lessons we learned, not least
how not to uncouple.
No comments:
Post a Comment