benefit of my doubt

that you never knew you became

my north

my only important map

the one that i lost

the one that you stole

without a blink

without a qualm

without looking back

once

 .

not yours to take

not yours to have

not yours to know

not yours

 .

thief that you now are

you skipped the country

crossed borders

took my important direction

the one i lost

the one you stole

without a blink

without a qualm

without looking back

once

 .

i am bereft, not yours

i am bereft, aimless

somewhat lost

surviving on locusts

(no honey)

in a desert

where i last observed you

and the priceless route

that forced me north

once

 .

i alone seem to stumble

in some odd direction

 .

i

don’t know which way to go

 .

just don’t know which way to go

to get to you

 .

or.

is

north

(perhaps, perhaps)

anywhere

you

are…