A snowflake in the sea

I am not lost, although I long to be...

Looking up at the stars, I know that for all they care, I can go to hell. How should we like it were stars to smolder with a passion for us we could not return?

On earth indifference is the most we have to fear. Inside there stirs a quiet pain for unremembered men that not again will turn to me at midnight. Whatever they did seems still well done to me and often in my solitude I sigh.

What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why?

What arms have lain under my head till morning?

I have forgotten.

And yet, in their absence, I am sad and envy even the bright blue sky above them, with it’s deep, bright, and most expressive blue, between me and the midnight heaven arise. Those quiet stars may see them and be glad.

Admirer, as I think I am, of stars that do not give a damn, I cannot say what loves past my way. I do discern were all the stars to disappear, I would learn to look at an empty sky. I cannot, now that I see them, say I missed one terribly all day.

I do not love and yet, I know not why. I know only that the universe sang in me for a while, but in me sings no more. And I realize, if equal affection cannot exist, let the more loving one be me.

I am not lost, although I long to be. Lost as a candle lit at noon…or as a snowflake in the sea.