Longing

That short weekend started with longing.

All the things I had left behind, all those I would never do again. Felt my body all alone, so all alone I would (of course, no doubt) finally die.

But before I stayed and faced it all, your constant running away in spite of growing old routines, your fears and miseries as well as my own ones, our opposite longing into night and day dreaming, our shadows at 6:00 p.m. then turned into 12:00 a.m. continuing not to ever meet again.

Hesitant steps before our wandering reckless restless hearts.