The Burial

The Burial

I march to the RiverWalk,
Intent on unburdening myself.
The sun is strong, the light, unrelenting.
My sandals are blistering my feet.

Like me they look okay, I think, but
Like me, they are a bit worn out.

So much has happened since that September night.
It was two of us, then, a year ago today,
Standing at the fountain, inhaling the mist.
His little boy grin should have set me straight.

It took just one kiss to stir my dormant feelings,
To shake me out of my emotional stupor.

But now it’s time to wall myself up again,
To ignore the pangs of desire that so distract me.
I stare at the water foaming around the fountain’s steps.
My eyes sting, my body sways.

It’s time to let go for good, I mutter to myself.
He never led me on. He was always clear.

The anguish I suffered was of my own doing.

I sigh.

Close my eyes.

I look into the shallow water for a place to drop my soul.

There.

I stand back.

Retrace my steps along the RiverWalk.

I am touchable no more.

Saffi Darsanac