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The String on the Finger

Who is a poet? —
           A day-dreamer!..
I’ll swiftly stroke my hair up
And tie a string around your finger:
To each his own —
          there we are!

Ah, it is not the way I dreamt it:
I saw me cuddled on your arm,
Bathed in a bliss and safely sheltered —
I laugh at being so dumb!

I pictured our affair
As a fey journey’s
          secret route —
Myself, unwinnable and fair,
And you, sweet-talking and astute…

‘tis true, my reckless wishful thinking
Had sent my mind in disarray,
But there are two truths quite simple —

Two different fates,
          two separate ways.

They run in parallel to each other,
My woes counting for naught,
My waking dreams
          by now smothered
In the firefight of hectic thoughts!

I’ll plunge my hands in river water
To feel its gentleness and chill...
I’ll dive — and may
          my doleful burden
Sink and be buried
          in the silt!

You’ll try forgetting me, you’ll stroke
Your hair up, and burn the string,
The knot I tied…
          Yet you will know
Life wouldn’t be as it has been.