Letter To The Dear Departed

Perhaps I went to fast. At the bus stop when you were leaving I couldn’t have thought of worst, with hindsight, rather place a kiss behind your ear and whisper sweet nothings until I had to leave.

Perhaps I went too fast. Why I invited you was clear in my mind like misty gardens I could make out the lawns and the hedges and the fountain but you were nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps I went too slow. While wondering what to write, I edited myself out of existence. Lies were written instead of truth or truths. Can you ever forgive me for wasting your time?

Perhaps I went too slow. When you came around to see me and all I could do was undress you. I was a grub.

Perhaps I went too blind. When you said it was not to be I couldn’t imagine any future. Fat chance of success, but I never underestimated you.

Perhaps you can hear me. I don’t know. But perhaps.

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