I have been holding my breath
until you remembered that you loved me.
Upon remembering, I forgot what it is to be loved.
Tears are where love should be.
Grief, a tight-fisted placeholder
hardly knows touch and turns from two
towards one lone observer, bystander, onlooker.
When lost at sea,
after the hope went,
I was only waiting for sweet death to
finally claim me.
Even it refused to come too close
and so, I knew
even death would not have me.
It has been only I,
adrift for a thousand years.
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