We're not
'In love.'
There is no
Genuine
Sublime
All-mighty
Emotion
Behind this. I could not
Distill your voice
From the waterfall crash
Murmur of a crowd.
Blossoms do not bloom and
Float and wither in
My chest or my stomach
When your skin brushes
The wrinkles on my
Knuckles.
I do not care:
But I'm going through the motions with you.
Our meeting
Was not
Particularly
Star studded
There was no
Lightning, no
Thunderclap
Or in fact
storm of
Any sort.
I said "Hello,"
You replied - we
Were simply polite
I did not notice
The color of your eyes
(Grey and blue with
flecks of brown:
a muddy track
in winter weather)
your gaze did not linger
anywhere in particular.
We were civil strangers
I did not care
But I went through the motions with you.
Our relationship
Was not like
Wildfire, it
Wasn't fearsome
Or volatile
Or even
Lukewarm.
It was not
Gradual, not
A glacier
Groaning vastly
As it shoved its
Way between us.
It was more like
Dust -
Creeping in and settling
on everything that's just
been cleaned - pretty
in the light, soft, but
unremarkable, really
not exciting; not passionate,
not much
and I didn't care:
But I went through the motions with you.
Our friends didn't think
We made a perfect
Couple, yours said
I was too small
Mine replied that
You were too tall.
We didn't and
We don't
Fit perfectly, snug
Made to match -
More like two
Broken parts which
Remember their
Original shape
And don't quite
Meet all the way
Round leaving dollhouse
Canyons for nothing
To pass through.
We couldn't work and
I didn't care,
But I went through the motions with you.
And then …
That night:
Fireworks, and the water
Gleaming silver under
The moon rays like
A hammered goblet,
And I told you -
This wasn't real,
Not possible,
Unlikely,
Underwhelming -
You agreed with
A mute nod, we
Concluded we
Were sick of searching,
46
Aluredian
Going
through
the
motions
with you
by
Ella Watts, 61