The Understanding Heart

Does absence make the heart grow fonder?

Time passes with no fleeting remembrance or even a
stare in your direction.
The seconds, minutes, hours, days, months and now years stumble and blend like a montage of
emptiness.
Gone. Can you hear the whisper of goodbyes?

Waves of liquid ice meander through
tunnels that touch and render the epidermis warm.
But the struggle of heat elsewhere falls short,
And in that same failed place, there is a vacancy to abort.

A perplexed iamb, now of steel, strikes at the core not once but twice,
It waits. Lub dub. Isolated.
Except the fractures never heal, not completely.
What’s left is a magnitude of chips, battle scars, lowering their gaze in shame.

Still, life peeps through obscurity;
Steps on each shadow like puddles in December.
The path for that desire is axiomatically unfamiliar each time you try and take it.
But that never stops us.

Who is proud of being alone?
Are you?