In Kensington Market

In Kensington market,
full of small purveyors
of meats and vegetables,
of soaps and leathers,
and roti shops,
and pho restos,
and bubble tea spots,
I looked for you.

I searched mindfully,
and desperately,
and keenly, waiting 
for the perfect glimpse
of the perfect being
that is you. But I  
came up empty.

I tried the health food stores,
thinking holistically,
but no luck,
except for the ginger pills
to quell my melancholy
and our distance.

I tried Blackbird Bakery 
thinking that the kouign amann, 
even just the aroma, might
have drawn you in, but,
again, to no avail.

It must be the sunsets 
that took you away,
leaving me empty of heart,
caught on the reeds of a song,
a bittersweet tune,
without an end.

Still, I couldn’t find you,
because you weren’t there.
No, you were already nestled
in the hollow of my heart.