“My Final Hours Without You”
Damn, World, can you believe that we have at last made it to this state of afterwards and that these are my final hours without you?
In a few hours from here, there will be no more sentimental eye-water cascading down the side of my face as it crashes into my pillow like the rising surf onto a dark and lonesome beach, while I stare a million miles into the ceiling beholding you, them, us, and a tomorrow somewhere in the offing of time.
In a few hours from the present I will at no other interval think of us and the what ifs in the wee hours of the morning before Dawn gives birth to her Sun; and hurt abysmally because I understand that the only obstructor that’s hindering our fusing, fighting and growth in love is the tick of an evolved clock, as we spin unconsciously on this revolved rock, while at the door of our insecurities there’s an unresolved knock.
In a few hours from this hour, I will hug you for what will seem like an infinity of eternities, and our lips and bodies will melt into one another in such a way that our better halves will form a whole owing to what was meant won’t and shalt not be denied, slighted or neglected.
In a few hours from this second, we will shine and sit upon high thrones within an empire minus Terrance and Taradgyi, by way of our infused hustle and flow that compliment each other. The nervous anticipation is now over, but why am I still nervously anticipating what’s past due like a deadbeat’s child support?
But hey, over is over, like the remainder from this division that we have according to the numbers given and despite all odds made it through. These lonesome seconds and missing you moments have come to a consummate reckoning that sums up to “My final hours without you”. And, World am I ready.
Poetic Thought by: David Baker