You are the queen of solitary things:
the quiet candle light that sulks at night,
the emptiness that autumn rain brings,
a lover’s heart with an unspoken fear
of making something worthless much too dear,
a morning with no reason but to rise
to loner coffee cups, without a cheer,
the hurt of keeping love as disguise
when you just move along and pass me by…
raising a hand to give pity “hellos.”
So I walk on alone and I deny
with a gesture what, inside of me, grows,
the further you walk, the more that I feel
the sore of solitude that
will not disappear.
Yulema Lecta
October 14, 2009