Slowly I started talking to you.
In the morning, when I woke up.
In the night, the last thought before sleep.
I shared my victories and admitted my defeats.
Told you my joys and showed you my tears.
I had conversations with you
about the important and trivial stuff,
when I worked, when I rested,
and when I dreamt.
Slowly each thought had your name carved in it.
Slowly each moment was spent with you.
…
Now I took my time. And slowly I see, it was not real, just as this is not a poem.

Alenka H., 2024