I was told I was amazing once.
Then it went away.
Was I not amazing anymore?
Or did her perceptions of my value diminish?
“I am not sexy or handsome”
The difference is love or
She spoke the latter, I am inclined to believe the former.
The bitter preamble to a declaration of apathy
whose signal shines as brightly as the tail of a comet
journeying away from the sun.
“I don’t want to see you every day.”
Words that hurt like biblical sticks and stones.
I fought to believe her reticence in articulating
either compliment or desire were ineffable,
despite the actions and hesitations that spoke volumes.
When I sat broken and in tears, and she observed silent and
clinical a few feet away, I knew in my heart I was changed forever.
My passion and love saw a life (I dared to dream may be again)
plummet into a dark place.
So I sit with Sistine wonderment.
Seeing and dreaming what was almost within reach.
But what would Adam be
had God retracted his hand?