Memory of Our Parallel Lines

used to be friends

I am being watched,
Watched by the enticing gaze of
A spell cast upon me by a heart's
Desire.
A shadow is following me,
It lures me into its presence
As a voice echoes
upon the walls, letters
Are brought to my attention
By silent gestures.
Something happens, that I wasn't prepared for.
We were parallel lines, never intersecting
Then you change and all that is left is a memory
And a shadow.
We intersect and as this collapsing of walls
catches my eye, you grab for my
Hand.
On my doorstep, there is a freshly
Knitted black sweater,
sewn on the sleeves are the veins of your heart.
The shadow has disappeared and so has
My being been diminished by
Intersecting lines.