Saturday, March 14, 2009


Yes. You are here. In my room. Sitting on my hand. Watching my quivering lips as they are speaking to your image in my dreams. You snatched through a plasticine screen to grab me by my teeth only to disappear in a rare moment of unity.

How did you lose me here. Right here in my corner. While I sat and waited, rolled and agitated, for you to come and take me away. 

One day I was young. I remember from my window. There was a sheet of snow all over your grey land and green hills. It was no longer the dark December, but the sunny spring of our love. I was running on the uneven pavement. I fell with a bag of oranges rolling along the whistling traffic. You came from nowhere. You held me afloat where the sky met your red heart. The wind was out of my breath and the life out my death. You couldn't say goodbye. You never did.

It was seventy two years later that I met you again. Your fingertip touched my quivering lips that no longer spoke to you in my dreams. There was a potato sack surrounding my perfection. There was you. 

But was there?

What we lost and what we will lose in the seventy two years till we meet will never be forgiven, never be forgotten, for we lost each other, in the name of what? In the name of nothing.