Three Thousand Miles

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Loving someone is easier when you're naive.

Submitted: August 06, 2012

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Submitted: August 06, 2012




I hang on to the ache of your being
three thousand miles away
Of landscapes, seas, people and crowds
you left me at the green bay
That Sunday owned a bitter soul,
cold, weary, once young but now too old
And despite this my hand still wants to caress
that trembling soprano of your farewell
I imagine your echo as I look out this frame
which surrounds a picture of the sea so familiar
I can almost imagine how it would be
if you were still my Francesca
How that name of yours has burdened me
caused me heart ache, fever and misery
And I wonder what has happened to a dear old friend,
once known as splendid monogamy

Three thousand miles from you I stand
on our beach, on our land
The water would still be as you remember
– blue, wide, an everlasting expanse
it has not changed since that bitter December
I cast a wistful glance out to the sea
– so tired has my first lost love made me
I am a shell of the man I once had been
The sunset is shared with a lone man in solace
but I cannot delude myself
The ghost of your fingers still linger and they
insist on haunting me
This dangerous love I can’t help but fear,
because even three thousand miles away
I still dream of you to this day

Three thousand miles away from me,
it pains me, but are you living in ecstasy?
The vibrant flames your hair leaves in trail
amongst so many other things I can still envision
– the delicate curve of rose lips, lavender lids,
spirit so unbreakable, so loving
I wondered, questioned and strived for the
answer that would put away this plight
and after so long, I find mercy has finally arrived
What tore us apart was not words, nor the
spiteful emotions that dictate humans, but fate,
so I’d like to think, laid a merciful hand
and declared the end of yet another bond
The wounds of love I’ve left to fester,
they serve as a steady reminder
of love seared and doomed and its remarkable pain
And so in difficulty but with a level head,
I say aloud:
Tomorrow, I will be today’s fool no longer

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