Distance

by Sarah Sutton, edited by Betty Doyle

 

I guess it’s out of the blue

For you

But, for me, it was there

Inside  –

Biding its time, that

Feeling

That something was wrong.

 

You were the extremity,

Held in the air

For too long.

The feeling had gone –

That’s what happens

When you don’t respond

Until the tingle is gone.  

 

 

Tears once fell,

Like autumn leaves,

For time to rake away.  

Now, there is nothing;

No tears,

Just numbness –

like frost-bitten fingers

that have lost their grip.

 

 

Like a post-it removed

after time, the glue

between me and you

lost cohesion. 

We shared stories,

but after time,

what would be left

to link us?

 

Perhaps memories,

these are mostly good;

how you made me

feel full of light,

like summer, but

coloured like a photo in the sun

once bright, they fade

and are replaced by what?

Reproductions are fake.

 

It was wrong of me

to try this –

We aren’t Lego

anymore,

we just don’t click.

 

Maybe for a while,

but it is not enough.

What do we share now?

Truly? 

Beyond superficiality?

What?

 

I don’t think I have a good enough answer.

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