two islands

when i think of love — i think of you and me standing, looking at each other. we are on two islands; there is a chasm between us, a torrid body of water so deep it bleeds into the earth’s core.

i’m dying to reach you: i could jump into the water, and if i’m lucky, i’ll wash ashore on your sands. but i start to wonder: would you do the same for me?

could we meet in the middle?

i return my attention to your eyes; your gaze has softened now. there’s still love in it, i know. but it doesn’t have the edge it did before, that absolute determination to swim or die trying.

you wouldn’t do it for me, would you?

you turn away to another island; i am left looking at you across mine, before i eventually turn too.