In Search Of Him

you have heard many stories
of pines and cedars
but this:
a scene of loss,
peril
my fingertips tremble
and freeze as i touch
the rose gold fountain pen
i blink twice
my smoky lids as i
explore him
about
on the papers;
so unfamiliar with my language, sheets
quiver as I stride my nails on
letters and words search for fervour
as i even think of him
everytime
on a paper
under fading pink skies
amid the pines
in a word, letter
for you and me
he is new
and gone, long gone

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