I wish I could imagine life without you,
that mornings spent alone were everyday,
that tables set for two were optimistic,
and pillow forts could keep the wolves away.
I wish your voice were more parts stress than calm,
or that its croon was less like lullabies,
but your sighs bring on their windless waves
a promise of your bittersweet goodbyes.
I wish that I could blame you for a sin,
or that you could commit a godly crime,
but He cannot absolve a shielded soul,
and you do not believe in the divine.
I know your coming like the rise of dawn,
the weight of footsteps on the hardwood floor,
how deep you breathe when peacefully asleep,
the weight of worlds you bear and always bore –
for we are cut from cloths a pond apart,
our slates, though blank, were not made to align,
but like a soggy puzzle piece, we change
to find our peace, imperfect and resigned.
Water did not bear my soul anew,
a renaissance was never destiny,
and while I wish the world would change its plans,
I somehow know that you are meant for me;
explain to me a life I lived without you,
and I will find a shore without a sea.