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What Was It


by Darryl Price


 

 

we were all meant to do with our love? What I can

think of is to ask the question again. I

suppose there are others more willing to

 

supply you with a proper answer, but none seem

real to me. These words are only stones,

meant to skip across the waters between us. They may tell

 

you something deep in the sinking end, but for now,

this is only a twinkle I've made, to let you

know someone else is there in the many crowded shores of leaves. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bonus poem:

 

 

They don't know what I know

 

about you and I don't

know anything. You were

always the perfectly

lit image that came floating

up to me in a

clear blue bowl of watery

dreams. I waited for

more of this clarity

only because it felt

right to wait. I never

 

carried your picture around

with me because any

representation

of you seemed like a false

gesture on my part. And

now I fear I've lost you

forever because you

cannot stop falling down

the rabbit hole, because

the island I'm shrinking

into has already

 

been removed from anyone's

treasure map. If you

found me now it would have

to be because you made

the dangerous climb backwards

through my poetry

to the very top of

my living head. And that

I fear is impossible

even for someone

as beautiful as you.

 

 

 

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