Poem Hunter
YM ( / Paris, France)


A long time ago, dewdrops reminded me of lasting beauty
I thought preserving them in my memory was sufficient.
Now I bear within me the crystalline beauty of distilled pain,
Forcing my spirit to mold to changes dictated by circumstances.
My heart will retain their shape forever,
My soul will thirst after their taste
My bones will ache for their touch
But the reality is that they have already evaporated,
Nothing will ever bring the same drops back.
But tomorrow, the day after, and many, many days after,
Similar shapes will appear, perfectly formed,
Indistinguishable from the original ones,
But never the same ones, the ones we knew,
The ones that nurtured us,
And in my heart there is such a tremendous sense of loss,
This deep void that aches to be filled,
And the sinking feeling that
It never will...

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