It’s The Halves That Halve You in Half

I’ve had a crush on your mind since the moment I thought I figured how to walk through your doors, marked private. You had gentle manners and were softly spoken and showed me the world in the most vivid of shades, like I had never seen it before. I inhaled everything with the greed and thirst of someone who had never walked on the bright side of the road before.

“Focus outwards,” you told me, caressing my thigh, and all I could think of was how I liked you for your strength, your roughness, and your darkness. Next to you I could always be both the lady and the tramp. I never questioned why you wanted me to focus outwards. I just figured you had more to show me, and I was keen to see it all. I only missed the essential.

You came and went in episodes, but there was nothing for me to remember from the times in between, so I let them slip one by one. Images of us were flashing through my mind, all madly beautiful sequences, blurring everything out.

Chilly autumn evenings, when my favourite sweater’s lining of boldness was nothing compared to your hand. Lattes and limos in square markets they made for lovers like us. Waking up only to dive into daydreams. You, you, you. Day, night, day, night, day, night. August, December, April…

I’d come find you, but I see no signs and no doors. The world is back as it was before you, bland and colourless. I’d hold tight to the memories, but they are starting to slip and blend into the background. And, hard as I try to remember what I learnt from you, I see nothing in focus when I focus outwards.

2 thoughts on “It’s The Halves That Halve You in Half

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