And then I remember

There is a shred -
A shred of a sliver of something
That I recall in a thought
Of a smile that beams
Or the wryest grin with a twist
Or a face that is sunlit and loving
That I long for

And the feeling tears me.
Can it be possible?
To happen upon such
devastating instances
of beauty here
- and then lose them?

Every line inside me tells me
they belong
to certain points in time.
To certain places,
certain people.
But I am not sure.

I daren’t even look in the direction of
the possibility
that they are anything other than lost.
But -

It can only mean I am more attached
to the fact of having lost
and the comfort of being incomplete.

I can barely dare
to turn myself
towards a self that is not
in some way defined
by lacking something.

And then the penny drops.

That sensations know
no direction.

That loving
is being loved
and being loved
is loving.

That the wonder that is in
the gift of a smile received
is available in every instant.

I only need a twist
to turn on the wryest grin,
need only open
to let the sun in,
and, beaming,
to remember
the true gift
of fleeting beauty
is that it never leaves.