Symbols in the Air

Symbols in the air

Free will left me thirsting
for what turned out to be a mirage in the desert.
Through your story, I learned my own
and I knew you were only passing through.
I feel the affection that still lingers,
and it will sustain me in this season of clear-headedness.
I thread together the clean and sincere memories
where there was no deceit or betrayal.
Nothing guaranteed me a painless letting go.
I misread the fine print of our pact:
"Not to hurt each other, so as to make it last."

If the couch could speak,
it would tell me nothing is missing,
it witnessed our interlaced hands
and the last look between us.
I searched for the source of my pain,
and in the corners, I saw a
little girl, inept and pretentious.

I shook off the mildew of immaturity
and untied the knots in my throat.
Time to grow up.
The reflection gave me back my self-love
and I understood that friendship, and something more,
were hard to conjugate together.
Time to learn.
One of the two of us would move first.
The pieces sought to fit together
in order to dwell.
Time to heal.
The challenge dwelled in the unexpected
and turning halfway around
I sealed off the footprints of the past.
Time to depart,
the climb was steep,
my feet trembled.
I checked my backpack of wisdom,
an unwelcome conversation
drowned the joy that was about to be born.

Excuse me,
silence in defense,
I was afraid of being heard.
My ears held on to the illusion
stammering: —You should have known me.
It no longer matters: —I know who I am and what I am capable of.