anchor
act I
we have been holding hands
for what seems like an eternity.
inseparable, the rest of the world
would have called us.
fascinated by this love
that seemed perfect.
staggering permanence in a
slowly burning universe.
from the moment i can remember
opening my eyes,
your fingers were entwined with mine.
flush against each other,
not even a whisper of space
between our palms.
act II
i dragged you into all
my harebrained schemes.
just a little more reckless
with the warmth of your hand in mine.
the confidence of having someone
that would always accept me.
no matter what.
never once did you tell me
to take it down a notch,
or pull me back,
never once did your hand
feel like a shackle.
a small smirk playing
at the corner of your lips,
you were there.
being exactly the person
i needed you to be.
act III
i suppose all this
is to reassure myself
that we were not
always strangers.
did you know when it changed?
did you feel it in your bones?
if you could go back,
would you have squeezed
my hand softly
and said,
with characteristic calmness,
i think this is going to end.
or was it easier when i remained
oblivious to you pulling away?
so certain in the existence
of an us, that my mind
did not imagine any other
combination of you and i.
i was too wrapped up
in looking for our
next big adventure.
act IV
by the time i realised,
too much had changed.
the small sliver between us,
which i did not know the origin of,
had widened into a chasm.
i could not recognise
the once familiar grooves
of the lines across your palm,
your future had somehow
spiralled into one
where i did not factor.
yet our hands remained linked,
loosely clasped, almost
an afterthought.
with fear crowding my body,
everything stuttered to a halt.
i let go.
and you did not notice.