Silly Little People

I wonder how you're doing
But I can't call you
Even though that makes too much sense.
Can't have that.
The rules say that's not allowed.
It wants to eat me up from the inside,
Dissolving the lining of my stomach with
Wretched bile comprised of
Guilt, anger, pride.
OK, I get that,
But it doesn't move me to dial your number today.
Maybe tomorrow.
That seems like a good time to reach out,
Give a shout out,
A unilateral act,
But probably not.
This is the way it is between people who aren't strangers,
A ridiculous, complex dance of
Intellectual stubbornness and gorgeous misunderstanding.
Past days cannot be captured.
They can be summarized,
But their wholeness and spirit have evaporated forever.
Silly little people who won't be here for long,
Allowing days to blend into
Clouds that dissipate so they can't cast shadows.

© Poem Fix 2012
 Photo by AWa

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