Suppose I Leave You
Feel the steps I take away from you, fragrant with the last perfume you gave me, like an emotional flagellation which shall never cease to haunt me.
Never were joy and despair so beautifully expressed by your tears of desolation, in the paradoxical relationship's demand for all the suffering, with the brightest tint of a soulful Spring in our minds when we inevitably argue, then laugh at each other.
The bittersweet smile on your beautiful face is still radiant and bucolic at the same time, after the destruction of our bond. A schizophrenic view of Humanity and the never-changing canons remain after centuries of existence come forward.
So, we are done, my darling. This gold ring on my hand does not belong to me anymore. Would you not remember the days and hours we gave to each other? How cruel were we to each other, and yet how happy. My perspicacity grown from jadedness cannot rescue us, what we had, all we felt and said carelessly. Assignment is
Done.
© Image: Roberto Trombetta/Flickr
This work by Orlando Barahona is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. 