By Shada Shamma
Some feelings linger long after a goodbye. “Omitted” is my attempt to give them a place to live outside of me.
I’m sharing it here, in my little thought bubble, with anyone who has ever struggled to let go.
Omitted
Omission.
That’s the word that comes to mind
after our barren silence.
Sigh.
—I love you
I can’t help but confess it
Sigh.
—I love you
it only feels right to stress it.
Up there you are, cradled near the Galilean summits.
Up there you are,
still unwitting of the quiet decay within me.
admission is absolution
and absolution I seek
thus—
I surrender
I love you, still.
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