It’s the way she says my name.
No, not my birth name; the name she calls me.
It’s the way it glides off her lips –
That singular word,
possesses the ability to rock my entire world.
It’s the way she emphasizes every syllable.
I reckon that such skill & sorcery should be abominable.
Because this craving engulfs my very being, every minute,
To a point where the sound of that name gets me on my bare knees.
“Meet me at the roundabout?” she asks.
“Which one?” I ask, as I proceed.
She tells me I will find her when I get there.
Even with the vague description, I oblige,
I will go.
Maybe I will meet her halfway,
Maybe she will call my name.
As I embark on this clueless journey,
I ponder –
“Why have you summoned me?” “Can you explain the method to my madness?” “Does fate exist or are we just naive?”
The roundabout is awfully eerie.
I find her, but she will never find me.
How could she? when all I see is her lifeless body…
…she never said goodbye.
& that’s when it hit me, I never really said her name.
Now I seek answers, but I am too late.
Love & light ✨
