Deception
by Adam Sifre
Distance.
There is no greater horror.
Yet you keep it, hoard it like gold,
until you are a pretty dot on the horizon,
refusing to disappear.
I run to, always I run to you,
screaming at the shimmer of you,
fooling myself, and thinking I finally draw closer.
But you are only promises. A mirage.
Even as I shout your name;
even as I reach out to you,
I am back on my island,
and you are so distant, I must imagine your smile.
There is no greater horror.
Yet you keep it, hoard it like gold,
until you are a pretty dot on the horizon,
refusing to disappear.
I run to, always I run to you,
screaming at the shimmer of you,
fooling myself, and thinking I finally draw closer.
But you are only promises. A mirage.
Even as I shout your name;
even as I reach out to you,
I am back on my island,
and you are so distant, I must imagine your smile.
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Author's Note
An impromptu poem.
Other stories by Adam Sifre
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"and you are so distant, I must imagine your smile."
Nicely done.
The pressure built to erupt in guffaws as I read this. Had to swallow it. Not disappointed, tho. Not at all. *
Moving, fine piece. Love the tragi-sad ending of "and you are so distant, I must imagine your smile."
Thank you all. I believe that's enough poetry for me for a while.