Gone.

The last spoken touch
Of the life you never mentioned,
Trying to scramble in the dark
For a new sign, a new hope, a new love.

Swimming in tears of regret,
Looking out onto the sea of injustice and poverty
Wishing upon wishes that the bricks of our hopelessness
Will be crumbled before morning.

Your aching bones of wisdom will long be gone
When I set foot upon the dry land of your home
And then, only then
Will I find something to grasp onto
In the shape of your love.