The hollow in your pillow,
is a void
still warm,
an echo of the dreams
we shared
but split in two.
You only saw yourself,
while
the only voice
I ever heard was
mine —
deluded in reflections
we are tethered
to the echo
of ourselves.
Echo and Narcissus by John William Waterhouse
A short poem on the topic of Echo. Merril hosts at dVerse and I tried to use both the mythology as well as echo in a wider sense.
—
December 10, 2019
Creative Experiments and More 