London Poem: Day 88

13 November

I dream with anxiety,
And hesitation –
I withhold out of fear
That our ends will never meet.
Before, when the days were longer,
You never hesitated to share
Where you saw us going.
Now, there is little reason
To explore the future.
Silence now booms,
And stands as your denial –
I waiver, and you ignore it,
Because what has come has
Strayed from what you hope
Would arrive.
I’ve regressed, and as I’ll
Come to find,
You have long ago.

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