they were mine! they were mine! they were... never mind.

we used to laugh
din't we

there were times 
when i
used to hold you
align my body right
next to you
the front of my body
snug 
against 
the side of yours
fitting
those curves
and i used to lean in
and i used to 
say funny things
into your ears
just so that 
when you laughed
i
me
my body
would move along 
with yours
as you laughed

i did that 
because 
i wanted to feel your laugh
not just see it
or hear it
but feel it
be one 
with its
tone and timbre
and rhythm
and rise and fall

i wanted to live in your laugh
wanted to
live with your laugh

and 

and we used to talk
din't we

i used to 
say things
that stopped your breath
and formed a knot in your throat
no
not the one 
that pricks
or itches  
or chokes
or tightens your chord

but like a sweet pudding
a succulent morsel 
of endearment
of love

i did that
so that i could
then
slip my tongue
down your throat
and untie it
slowly
very slowly
very very slowly
like taking
small
deliberate
bites

untying it with my teeth
making that knot disappear
easing your vocal chord
so that you could 
let out that moan
of relief
of joy
of pleasure


we used to 
be
din't we

it used to be
us
and when half of us
i/me
was enough

but that was then
before
the crowds came in

hundreds and thousands
of them
faceless

all armed with
their likes
and favourites
hidden behind a screen
those masked
smart sassy
things

that was then
and after that
even 
your morning wishes
which were mine
got shared

your moments
which you used to bring to me
to make them ours 
got shared

your late night rants
and messianic chants 
got shared

the highs of your life
attracted 
and became a cause for 
community celebrations
and the lows
brought in
sympathetic virtual 
shoulders

cold

is how i felt
when 

all that was mine
got shared

and then

numb
as i 

slowly
became the invisible

bystander

who could
only hear
the sounds of your distant laughter
drowned in the crowd
raised on their shoulders 
and passed on
from 
one faceless
to one facetoomany

who could
only move his fingers
eyes closed
seeking those 
knots
they were there
he knew they were there

just not for him to untie

and now
he
i
the bystander
just stand and 
watch
and hear

living up to be
the perfect specimen of 
an after-thought
with a thought 
of his own

may be
the crowds were always there
may be 
the crowds were always there

and may be
the crowd shall always be

and that
may be
he was always meant
to be
that lost
semi-nostalgic 
question
from the past

one 
that decorates
your life
or day
or a moment
occasionally
when the crowd
gets
too busy
for anything 
as serious as your real life
your reality

"din't we..."

loss

the disappearing man