This is the poem I didn't send
that I didn't intend
that didn't end
(and couldn't mend)
the quiet affair that was never quite there.
This is the poem that never was -
my favourite poem of all, because
it would have meant that you were there
sharing the castle we built in the air
for a lost affair that was never quite there.
In the labyrinth that now is me
all rooms are open, you are free
to wander at will, no need for a key
not in our castle high in the air
in the quiet affair that was never quite there.
Alas for intentions. Unwittingly
scattered around - Catastrophe! -
"No Entry" signs - you thought from me...
How could that be, so high in the air?
Sad, the affair that was never quite there.
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