And I miss thee, though I speak it not,
Perhaps fearing to utter it aloud,
Yet miss thee I do and should not
For I know I cannot keep thee endowed.

‘Tis fine, it doth confound,
My constant self-deceit profound;
Mayhap thou art all the tales
I hide within my stories’ veils.

And I miss thee as always before
And know thou do not seek my door
Nor tread upon my path again
For thou hast seen me perish in vain.

In phrases of naught and dawns’ lights,
In heartdrops spilled upon stones slight,
In lakes of mud and mad epithets’ flight;

I miss knowing thee safe and sound,
Upheld by fragile embrace around.

Wrapped in sorrowed memories old,
I miss seeing thy smile unfold,
Even though for me be not,
In this tale of longing untold.

Marco Delrio

And I Miss

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Mail: delriomarco.md@gmail.com