Gratitude

We move about on independent courses
Passing,
Seeing one another
Yet pretending to see nothing.

Emotions held in check.
Emotions pitted against the other
. . . At times of contact.
The pain still throbs.

What's left are memories
Of those days,
A pressing desire
To say,
. . . Thank you.

How can those words be spoken,
Convey the joy of all you did?
How can the appreciation be shown
For the fact of your presence?

My head never rested on your shoulder,
But it did.
Your arms enfolded me only twice,
Yet your embrace was constant.

You became part of my soul
And buried yourself in my heart.
We were one,
And are still so.
We are still fluent in body language.
But I cannot tell you
Lest you hurt me again.

. . . You must understand it for yourself.

How can I tell you I love you
For those antics, and readings,
Conversations and concepts,
Jokes and dreams spoken aloud,
Energy and passion about causes.

It was an uncomplicated existence
Rich with giving, sharing and caring,
For the sake of the sharing.
I appreciate what you attempted to give,
. . . What you offered,
. . . And what you gave.

Set with two choices,
I chose well.

But how can I tell you these things
When you run from your own feelings
And deny the attraction
That defies being denied?

We are one;
We are not one.

In these quiet moments
I want your support to be restored,
Given before requested.

A pittance of recollection
Remembers it was offered and rejected
By the Amazon who felt she had to be strong
For you
. . . Because of you.

Damned Amazons!

Meanwhile, we've become boats in a marina
No longer sailing in tandem
Creating a languid and beautiful dance.

Now we scuttle on our separate courses
Seeing the other; not seeing the other,
As ghosts of the past fill our eyes.

These beg two unanswerable questions:
How can I say aloud
"I will always love you."

More importantly, how do I say
. . . "Thank you."