Of all of you I hold; if it could be more!
We each are on our paths,
Living, and loving, and loving life.
Yet, when your fingers lock with mine,
Our hearts meet, our worlds marry,
And when from embrace, we part,
And wave goodbye, too weak to speak it,
And drag our feet, “Look not behind,”—whispering,
The pull to you, though invisible, though inexplicable,
Breaks me, and breaks me, and remakes me
In the image of our memories.
I laugh, oftentimes, alone (but not too alone),
Giggled by the thought of your laugh.
And smile, oftentimes, to myself (and to you),
In thought, caressed at heart by your smile.
Sometimes (hardly ever do I admit),
This all summons clouds, oh, so dark, within me—
This gathers gloom and gloom gathers gloom.
So, I turn my lights out, quieter, quieter, quieter.
To bed, slowly I head, drop my weight, and exhale:
Sometime, this night, this pillow under me will drench
In secrets, only the darkness and I hold,
In hopes and longings of light, of day, of change.
Light will rise, and it will shine and so will I.
Would “I miss you” mean more
If I knew you knew and knew how much?
O’, why, it now remains a feeling in me! Filling me up
With you, and with us and it breaks me.
For I am without you, where we sat, you and I,
Entwined in emotions, making memories.
Benson Langat is a poet, fiction writer, and freelancer. A dreamer, he realizes a world of possibilities through stories and explores life in poetry. Benie is a dad and lives in Nairobi, Kenya.