I was almost there.
I was there.
I was there.
I, was almost there.
The car park space was further away.
The elevator doors took a few seconds more to close.
I was on my way.
Past the plant pots dusty sheen.
Down corridors of handrails, glass
and white, of washed fences.
But I missed you.
Missed you crossing.
I think you knew somehow,
and left,
before I could see you at the end.
Maybe you saw me rushing down
those corridors,
from your heaven's lawn.
Sipping lemonade,
knowing you're leaving me with the memories
of the before's,
of living,
and not the body, mattress bound,
of ticking clocks that let you down.
But I missed.
I missed to tell you,
- I love you.
Though I know you do.
The words still burn in my stomach,
and the flames well in my eyes from time to time,
as if I say it aloud
you might hear,
and the rain will start again.
Who'd have thought
that death
would be our compromise.
Now, you wait in a room
in my memories.
The pain of loss resides in another.
The car park space was further away.
The elevator doors took a few seconds more to close.
I was on my way.
Past the plant pots dusty sheen.
Down corridors of handrails, glass
and white, of washed fences.
But I missed you.
Missed you crossing.
I think you knew somehow,
and left,
before I could see you at the end.
Maybe you saw me rushing down
those corridors,
from your heaven's lawn.
Sipping lemonade,
knowing you're leaving me with the memories
of the before's,
of living,
and not the body, mattress bound,
of ticking clocks that let you down.
But I missed.
I missed to tell you,
- I love you.
Though I know you do.
The words still burn in my stomach,
and the flames well in my eyes from time to time,
as if I say it aloud
you might hear,
and the rain will start again.
Who'd have thought
that death
would be our compromise.
Now, you wait in a room
in my memories.
The pain of loss resides in another.
Elaine -- Sophie Anderson
Elaine the White appeared as the Demoiselle d’Escalot in the "Mort Artu" part of the 13th-century "Lancelot-Grail" cycle of tales. She died of unrequited love for Sir Lancelot and drifted to Camelot in a boat. Thomas Malory expanded on her story in his 15th-century "Le Morte d'Arthur," relating that she had nursed him back to health after he was wounded in a tournament and that she was the mother of Sir Galahad. After the story was adapted by Alfred Tennyson in 1858's "Idylls of the King" her name became a popular choice for newborn girls.
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