Stardust and Letters
It was the equivalence of one sided love –
only one – feels your life was a figment of
imagination – although the taste of fear
when you left – as if you would never return –
was a dagger of my own making.
Count sheep I heard as evening drew near –
a shepherd brought gifts – held tightly to a long
stick, his flock followed – but the sheep never
came to visit while I slept.
Now I am left as the keeper of a trunk –
four times it crossed the mighty sea – I lift its’ lid
to remove another stack of letters you tied in red ribbon –
as if words would serve as proof, validate my fear –
I searched for reasons – why.
Perhaps you weren’t really
there – and I imagined you?