Cloud Towers, by Akseli Gallen-Kallela
Clementine

oceans apart

Sometimes the passage of time
slips through my hand
like tiny grains of sand.
Missing someone is a poison,
I’d wish on nobody.
You found an excuse,
to drive by my house.
All the way out of town.
You wanted to see me.
The one day I miss your text.
So that night I call you instead.
I never thought I would.
In my head you’ve died
a thousand times.
But grief would give anything
to hear your voice.
Talking to you felt
like the first signs of spring.
Like the snow melting,
and the blue skies.
Like bird chirping
in the morning.
You sounded different,
like you wanted to change.
I could hear your cries for
help in between your words.
Like morse code.
You’d never admit to missing me.
People told me you avoided me
because you didn’t care to see me.
But deep down I knew
that wasn’t true.
I’ll never forgive myself,
if I don’t see you.
I’ll never forgive myself
for missing your call.
To have all the forks in the drawer
and no spoon.
To be so close
but oceans apart.

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