Third of Three

I never met you,
But I miss you,
You don’t exist,
But I kiss you
in my dreams,
I set aside a portion of my heart,
Swaddled it in endless love,
And engraved it with your name,
But you never came to be,
And so I miss you.
Destined now to grieve eternally,
For all the times that we’ll not see,
For the smell of you
nuzzled next to me,
Reciprocated love,
Unconditionally,
You would have been my legacy,
The third of three,
The third best thing
I’ve ever achieved,
A beautiful embodiment of possibility,
But you, my love, weren’t meant to be.
And you, my love, will never be.
And you, my love, will never see
just how much
I miss you.

6 responses to “Third of Three”

  1. Such a tender, aching poem. One that shows death doesn’t own grief, and love is huge and mysterious. Beautiful!
    Tricia x

    1. Thank you so much Tricia. A hard one for me to write, but quite liberating x

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