Days

Today and now, has arrived the evening of a much tired day.
The streets, they lie emptied of their ordinary people and I’m
Vaguely conscious of a dull ache in their lifeless hearts. They
Have shed silent tears at being neglected in a way so callous;
I simply see straight ahead, nodding, as if in silent agreement,
Counting my steps so that I need not meet their empty eyes.
The food tastes blander than usual; its revolting mediocrity
Finally smothering my appetite. But I swallow still and allow
The lack of taste to engage in a strange duel with my instincts,
While I wonder naively when the conflict shall reach an end.
The faces in the shops are familiar yet distant, engaging me
In pointless conversations. But I humour them anyway for
These days loneliness so often stumps me in my solitude,
Making me think of you. You who hold command over the
Absurd swings in my mood. You who so often rob me of
My peace of mind and leave me breathless for falling in love
Too soon. It is hard to find if you know this but there is a
Way between hearts that knows that it was never too much
Or never too soon. All it takes is a languid passing afternoon
And things drift away like our endless but numbered days.