A figment

Although I know she was real
although I know she had
intangible feelings
she survived in my memory
only as a figment of my
imagination.
 
she dressed with style
she stirred the calmest waters
she turned this innocent man into a stallion
she turned his clumsy fingers
into the hands of an artist
 
and boy did she know how to kiss
and boy did she know how to laugh …
 
she had grace
elegance of a model while walking down the street
and when I got to know her better
I discovered the vastness of her soul
she skillfully concealed
 
and she knew how to feel sad and defenceless
and  she knew how to cry in loneliness …
 
I loved her in a very peculiar way
in a different way than others, however
I never knew how to say
with every word
how she made me sway
 
because she knew how to talk with affection
and she trusted me with no hesitation.
 
and now
remembering her is a shimmering glimpse,
it’s the melancholy exposed
by the truth—
 
I never had a chance
to say goodbye
when I left her behind
in our adaptation of youth.




©Tom Del Braco

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