The Junction
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The Junction

— a poem by potpourris.

Looping Daydream

Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

You were adamant about tracing my existence
all the way to winter’s end.
You were willing to maunder if you must,
to relive the feeling you had
when you last kissed me goodnight.

You didn’t mind wandering the seven seas
with my warmth as your bearings
Sure; you fear the blue that infinitely stretches
but you marched on, to hold me once more within close proximity.

Even in the vast billow of strangers
with their shoulders filling the already-cramped space
I became the first thing you sought for
and the last of your waltz.

Little did you know
I was always here, in the between

And the thought of me remains ever-tethered
between the raging waves and the barren shores,
between the cracks of the friendless hand; yours and the others.

And the thought of me remains haunting
kissing goodnight and turning to your nightmare,
For I’m the daydream you constantly looped
when you’re wide awake with something to lose.



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