Unborn Loves Of The Never-met

Everybody is seeking you.
You included.
I am not.

In the quietness of random kindness
In a bowl of soup for the already dead
In the muted heartache of fallen angels
In the screams of resin and blueberry cake

In the forced closeness of crowded lifts
In the reinforced faraway of video calls
In the promise of weekends at nameless towns
In the colour of carnage at the Siege of Homs

In the blobs of kittens in crystal goblets
In the warmth of hugs underneath the rain
In the unfurled wings of a growing ambition
In the ruffled pride of an ego death

In the unknown comfort of foreign cities
In the unborn loves of the never-met
In the melancholy purely by design
In the heartfelt apologies unsaid

In the violence of hungry kisses
In sudden joys of Nutella spread
In my little highs of the big bad lows
I’ve seen you, I’ve heard you, I’ve met you there.

You see,
Everybody is seeking you.
You included.
I am not.

For I have found you.

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