We never met, nor spoke a word,
No hopes we’d see the night occurred.
The hours of joy, of sorrow too,
Each spent alone, just passing through.
A longing for something bold and adorning,
To break the spell of endless mornings.
To watch the sky light up at dawn,
The clouds in dance, the night withdrawn,
Each tear absorbed by fields that gleam,
In shades of dark blue’s quiet stream.
Through empty halls, we’d pass on by,
No thoughts of regret, no need to try.
The cleaner’s scent, the silence still,
No aching heart, no empty thrill.
No message left to haunt the mind,
In lectures that I’d go to find,
a focus driving me ahead.
At night, with wine and pages near,
I ponder truths sharp, yet unclear –
Were those feelings shared and sealed?
A silent question, in words unrevealed.