The Inbetween

There would be these moments,
or rather this gap in time around them,
when I would realise with a stuttered breath
that I missed the you you had been once,
and that you were still there
between the breath and beat,
between the on your way and the arriving,
unhidden and brazen
like the most exquisite of street walkers
who knew they could afford to be selective.
But then somehow,
in a space between my unlocking of a jar
and your greeting,
you slipped away from yourself,
and I cannot help but wonder whether I left too.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s