On the End of a String

A Poem

Photo by Andrew Bui on Unsplash

hello becomes another time for a meaning,
a crisp begotten moment for hopeless meanderings —
and we get lost in it, so lost in it, even as all we might do
is give in to the impulse and try to strive for another moment together

i glimpsed you as my brother, a twin flame, through the glass —
even though i thought i’d be crazy if i ever said the words out loud

and i wrote you so many things — so many missives, all untold —
and i called to you in the dark even though madness claimed me
and all i wanted to do was hold you in the dark, this secret i didn’t know

if i should keep

twin shadows —
they make up the sky, i suppose, but maybe they aren’t meant
to walk the earth or scour its landscape
until it’s a misdemeanor of self to say

yes, there you are, the one who wears the same clothes
that i wear inside my own soul right now

but it’s a crazy thing to say, isn’t it,
even though it’s scary
and thrilling
all at once?

to be on the end of someone’s string —
to know there’s an answer in the dark,
to know there’s some light in the shadow

oh, for this, for this — i don’t know what i'd do,
to see you again,
this self i saw and knew
only through a glass