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I held the child close to my heart
almost squeezing a little too tight
the limp body, so flexible
offered no resistance
no response
a perfect fit
no more warmth any more
no happy games today
no fresh surprises
no wonder at things yet undiscovered
no running free in no specific direction at all
only silence
It was quite clear
the child would never live again
I wanted to breathe breath back in
to start it all again
to start over
to call back time
but it was not to be
it could not be
the child was gone
forever, lost
so I let go
I had to release it
no memories would help
memories had done enough
it was time to move on
the little boy was gone
yet still, alive in me
the boy had grown into a man
but the man had always remained the boy
it was already over
but it was always beginning again
the boy and the man
forever one until the end
unformed presence
worlds intertwined
still trying to play in the sand
that simply wasn’t there


One Comment

  1. Yes, Lloyd. This life is pretty fucked up at its best.

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