The Longing

 

A poem about a person trapped in emotional isolation who encounters another’s unfulfilled desire and, through it, dares to believe that connection—perhaps even salvation—might still be possible.

Title.

The Longing. 

(A lone voice whispers)

At the void in the lost letters of the world, in a black and white room.

Sat in this paid-up tomb opening letters for an address to write back to.

I suddenly came across you. Your letter to your unmet lover called to me and created an impression that I could never forget. Neither from the soft words nor in its radiance, but in its dance and rhythmic sounds that fall.

Its beautiful cadence.

 

Praying for the spirit of the righteous to intervene.

So as I sit here, where your past and future stand at attention like soldiers in Arlington National Cemetery, I feel a longing. A pull.

A deep need to say a Hail Mary.

Neither with a slow movement forwards nor backwards. Or ascent nor descent, but a magnetism that holds me in a tight grip. 

Daring me to want to feel what you feel, with my trembling fingertips 

So, Mary Lou, will you reply because by writing to you.

I can escape this lonely old room. A darkened tomb where hopes and dreams arrive.

Cry, fester, and then, unfortunately, die.

Is that why you read this far, because you prayed for someone like me to come on up on your radar?

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Image shared under fair usage policy.