Alone Together in Bloom
In this blossom spring, you ask the question,
like a gardener checking a withered vine
"Are you okay?" and for a moment,
the gate is unlocked, the choice is mine.
But how do I speak across this distance,
to a shore you've walled, a star gone cold?
I'm trapped within your line of sight,
yet feel like a ghost the silence holds.
I do not need your silver reach,
or pockets deep to pull me through.
My burdens aren't weights for you to carry,
just shadows a shoulder could subdue.
I need the warmth within the chest,
the anchor of arms, the quiet stay.
But you stand forbidden, far and safe,
from storms I never learned to say.
I am an old man out of your league,
orbiting a light that won't descend,
watching you love a ghost I can't see,
wondering if our "us" has met its end.
We sit within this shared degree
of singleness and separate stone—
a "we" that has no room for me,
two shadows, together and alone.
The walls aren't brick, but space and hush,
a haunting math where one plus one stays one.
Outside, the riot of green is loud,
but here, the winter has already begun.
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