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a fraction of love
sparrow

Everytime I wrote of you,
 1
it was a song of pain, a song of anger
 2
and sometimes one of long forsaken longing.
 3
 
 
These were just wrong words, written to hide
 4
regret for our shattered vase,
 5
wherein no flower could blossom.
 6
 
 
If someone would have asked me if you were my first love,
 7
I'd have said no, but that would have, at least partially,
 8
been a lie, because
 9
what we shared was not nothing, it was
 10
more like a fraction of love.
 11
 
 
Sometimes, when I saw you, it made my heart jump
 12
but only sometimes and usually it was more of a leap,
 13
a half-hearted leap for that matter.
 14
And every time I felt butterflies when you drew near me,
 15
I hurriedly whisked them away because
 16
I knew they would never turn into
 17
real butterflies.
 18
 
 
You never had my whole heart although,
 19
what you had was not nothing, it was
 20
more like a fraction of my heart.
 21
 
 
I never was quite sure what you felt,
 22
all I knew was that it was something
 23
swaying between everything and nothing,
 24
most likely a fraction of love.
 25
 
 
Being, both of us, ever-enchained
 26
in this fraction of love,
 27
each of us bearing nothing but
 28
a fraction of the other's heart,
 29
we tried, in different ways,
 30
to understand eachother,
 31
to free ourselves from fractions, finally
 32
let go of one another,
 33
move on to something full,
 34
something other, someone
 35
other, let
 36
these fractions dissolve like a drop of ink in water.
 37

6 Jan 07


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