the open field stretched wide, glistening with the dew of a new day beneath a swirling seashell of a dawn, and i found myself here unexpectedly, quietly. sinking to my knees in the soft grass and gathering the folds of my skirt around me like a fan, i searched the watercolor sky as if for answers; as if i expected kites and pinwheels to descend at any moment and unfold messages in thin air, breathing magic back into the rueful sails of an unrequited love.

and oh, you may never know just how i could have loved you…

this shadowy dream, how it haunts me so; leaves me hollow-eyed and lost in the middle of a crowded room, searching faces with the desperation of an addict all for the hope of catching a glimpse of you: the sweep of your shoulder or curve of your spine, the gray (are they gray? why can i not remember…) of your eyes, the papery insides of your wrists. you survived the wreck of my heart’s scourging but thinly, reduced on the banks of my memory to films of smoke and ashes, mere shadows of the hero’s form i once believed i owned.

such a tragedy, they murmur, tongues clicking in feigned sympathy as they shuffle past in smug relief that such a story belongs to others but never them.

and i will have just been one heart, one simple stream of boiling blood; one silly girl with closed eyes, murmuring your name as though reciting the urgent whispers of an only prayer.

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