How far away?
How beautiful must the heart be
to hold a thought,
a memory,
a person,
in between heartbeats
that haven't been named;
with every passing second
as the blood drools into
the many versions of you
you are still becoming,
your fingers clutch,
too close, too tight,
all the homes you ever built
out of other hearts
that almost slip
but don't,
without realising that
after all,
we are merely
a few heartbeats away from one another
and when one heart slips
it lands in another,
for we are a garland of heartbeats
listening to soft whispers
of friends and lovers
we don't know.
~Vasanthi
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