You are a constant thought in my mind.
It's as if the very essence of you
Found the cracks in my bones
And made a home in them.
As if your voice travelled through my skin
And into my blood stream
Directly to my heart.
Y. That perfect letter. The wishbone, the fork in the road, left or right, up or down, wrong or right, black or white. The continual question on our lips as we grow up, migrate, move on or stand still. It is both a question and an answer all in one - The empty wineglass, Yes No Maybe. The question we ask over and over. Over.
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