Sunday, 20 October 2013

To a man 232 kms away

Sometimes sadness creeps in
not with tiny bites of gluten bombs
but in memories held within samosas heady flavours
or the crisp smell of fallen leaves
or the deep brown depths of a strangers eyes
Moments gathered day by day
And stored in satin pouches in our hearts
We forget
We walk forward into altered days
Revel in new moments
embrace fresh touches
welcome healthier breathes on tender necks
 we forget how intertwined we still are
Each brush with another connecting us
in a vast and beautiful spider web of humanity
And this is how is should be
Even devastated
and afraid
I who have been these things
and you who have as well
Love as a word seems trite
but as truth
is everything