vulnerability by Nadia Gerassimenko

fate brought us together.
free will tore us apart.

when i felt affinity with you
in secret, you showed me pearly tears
of loss of love; a mirror echoing
the forthcoming of my own.
i cradled you that day
like mama, babe in arms,
until the lost drop fell.
& we just knew
this loss was gainful.

when we bared our souls
under moonlight in copses,
performed group rituals
for our spirits crestfallen,
danced & laughed the nights away
& woke up on cloudlike satin beds
i felt so safe completed.
if there was ever just a boy, you were
my soulmate for balance.

vulnerability passes on to others,
like passion ignites, flickers & dies
for the old, rebirths for the new.
still you kept me at hand to reach for
when he couldn’t answer everything,
when you wouldn’t let him cradle you
like i had that day yet.
it was never the same.
i may well have walked away,
you left long ago.

i know, now, soul connections come
when you need them most & go
when there’s nothing left to say.

Nadia Gerassimenko is the founding editor of Moonchild Magazine and proofreader at Red Raven Book Design. She is a freelancer in editorial services by trade, a poet and writer by choice, a moonchild and nightdreamer by spirit. Nadia self-published her first chapbook Moonchild Dreams (2015). at the water’s edge is her second chapbook (Rhythm & Bones Press, 2019). Twitter: @moonmoonmother