My Forgotten One

I still carry the mark we agreed on,

the pale reminder of the journey forsworn –

always back to each other.

Memories run fickle

off the tributaries of my mind

but my ears still know

the echo of a thousand love songs

you whispered to me

in a marriage bed

filled with ticking clocks.

I don’t want this time

to be coloured with the bitterness

of impending separation,

of the mind’s clever trick

of ownership or possession.

The dance of together and apart

is that of twisting kois,

my watercolour fish,

swimming in circles for centuries.

I turn away from endless faces,

waiting for recognition to halt me,

and even as logic protests,

sureness shouts that our day will come again

just as the seasons –

we’ll fall back into each other’s arms

and the hearts we’ve shared,

pried open for pearls over and over,

never tiring of the chase.

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