Lost Property

It’s dark now; it usually is
Except for that brief glimpse when illumination tears through,
and then it returns and it all seems to much more desolate than before.

Our time apart was agony: great sweeping stride times where we crossed each other’s paths so frequently though fleeting.
It was a balancing act that ceased only at the end of a long day when we lay crumpled in a messy heap with beautiful silence and companionship.

Lifetimes of night-times are all lost now.
For now, discarded I wait alone; a strengthening assault on my soul of separation.
A single shoe
Lost property

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