Our Interaction
My mind immediately conjured up a vial during our first meeting
Unnatural feelings in a vial
I have it firmly etched in my mind
To experience what had been taken from you
What the world had taken from you
A chance to say something
Giving the vial some words
Instead, it shattered, leaving fragmented recollections in its wake
With the passage of time and the loss of hope
As a result, I know my heart isn't safe
It's nothing more than a container for numerous divided vials
Is this, however, the case?
One of the shattered glasses
Even though it was a modest dish, it was left behind
There's more than enough hope
Which she painstakingly filled up
With her carefully chosen words, she replied
This is our second meeting.