“The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched; they must be felt with the heart.”

—Helen Keller


Alone in the Abyss

on this cold shore
the breeze caresses my skin
gently, softly
and I’m reminded of your wetness
the bond once shared
on this shore where we shared a dinner
in the full glare of the infant moon
above the horizon

our hearts palpitating
in crescendo-decrescendo murmurs
our bodies chanting
synchronized acapellas

but our rhythms sealed
by conjured lyrics and symphonies
of distant cicadas and nearby crickets
but our unkindled flames now ashes

this symphony is no longer a reckoning of our tailor-made bond but of a dying flame of a dejected soul

And now I am lost in the labyrinth

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