Eden of a Mind

She asked:
“Where’s your favorite place?”

My sass
would reply in sarcasm,
my wit
would dismiss
the question altogether,
my humor
would reference something
short on laughs
by Amy Schumer,
but my honesty
teetered upon my tongue;
my lungs,
rehearsed a song unsung
and I remembered
that I was there.

I was,
dusting memories
off the dendrites
that held dwindling images of us
a quarter to never was
and half past never will be,
before arthritic hands of time
cropped you out
of my frame of mind.

I remembered,
we finished more
than each other’s sentences.
We were verses,
that flowed
into the echoes
of our heartbeats.

I remembered,
my favorite place
wasn’t a bus fare away,
an Uber of convenience,
a plane to catch
a subway to miss
or a ferry to board.

I remembered,
your thoughts
were the holiest of grounds
I’ve ever walked,
and surely,
the cathedral of your mind
I’ve always preferred
unlocked.

My favorite place,
is an Eden of a mind
I’m no longer welcomed to;
a mind I used to crave
even now I wish to say
that I seldom do.

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