all that’s left unsaid

I don’t know where we were going with that
I picture the image of your lips left open
as if breathlessly hanging on the crumbling edge
and waiting for something for which I was hopin’

to fall, instead all conversation ends interrupted
thoughts lost, forever unfinished
but of all that’s left unsaid
importance is not lessened or diminished

just left hanging
on a clothesline blowing in the wind
and covered in the dust of erosion
long past needing to be brought back in