The Eternal Almost

I pushed the chair in behind me and almost said goodbye
Then bit my tongue ‘cause mother taught me that it’s wrong to tell a lie
A couple hours prior it was almost hello
Yet here I am slipping further into the eternal almost

Almost hello, but it’s really not goodbye these days. We still say the word, sure. We still turn to go our separate ways, yes, but then we loiter in a most-peculiar fashion becoming transients of one another’s purses and pockets. Rummaging through what isn’t ours but lays carelessly unguarded, we search intently, our gaze rarely distracted, for anything of fleeting value that might stave off our insatiable appetites just a little while longer. We are thieves of secrets, burglars of silence, swindlers of memories, and robbers of quiet reflection. To us the trespassing is sport. Undiscerning criminals defrauding even ourselves of all that is sacred.

We are tangled, not connected. We are distant, not close. We are broken, not mended. But almost… almost.



© 2022 Colin Heinrich