destined halves

wherever you go, there my love lies
underneath the grass, not dead, but
stirring as roots quietly mapping its
way towards the stream amidst a drought.
you are water in my glass, suffice i
swallow, siphon every drop to revive
myself… so forlorn i am without seeing
your baptismal smile, and how it christens
me every time i turn unsaintly, at times,
unkind; not once did i look for candy
or any superficial treats one might entice.
God, i think, it were the commonality,
the supplication and uncanny intersect
setting us in our perpendicular paths,
and if i were anymore geometrically
omniscient, we shall make hexagons out
of stars, infinitely, as though we are
spheres, destined halves to one another


About mr gahon

poet... writer... culinarian... i like to work with food that appeals to the senses, write words that taste even better View all posts by mr gahon

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