Particularly loved the last few lines of this poem by Lindsey Royce
Now, I long for one of those shirts,
his scent of sweat and paint,
to cover the dent on his side of the bed,
so, when I roll over, I
don’t fall into the future.
To me this spoke about the role of steady habits and routines we create with those we love; the void that is left behind when they move on. With a former lover it may be that dent in their side of the bed. With a child in college it could be that messy bedroom that you nagged them about all the time. Now there is only sweet with nostalgia when you see it immaculate - the order you create is here to stay. When you step into that "perfect" room you "fall into the future" you are beginning to learn about.
crossings as in traversals, contradictions, counterpoints of the heart though often not..
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