Wandering Thoughts

Shall I leave the candle unlit and walk away?

If I wasn't taught of clemency dwelling
within baby's breath, I would never have
noticed poetry trapped in your eyes last
February. I remember forgetting the
memories at the foot of my bed and
only finding them when I no longer
needed them.

You took my hand and walked me through
my second desert (the first, being with
Father). You showed me how to write with
the driest of inks and sleep through the
coldest of nights. You told me we were
travelers, following the footsteps of
blind oscines; we are deaf to their songs.
They soared higher and soon, we found
ourselves lost - lost in your dreams, in
your yesterdays, in your tomorrows...

But never in this moment, never in our moment.

I've dreamt again last night - of you and I.
We were not alone; we were lost amongst
faces, amidst grey lives, amid decadent
souls. What made me happy was not because
we were together (not this time), but it was
because no one knew us there. And I noticed
how different our voices were in that dream -
in my dream - the open air seemed as though
it can carry us to a faraway place. Perhaps
somewhere a little better, perhaps not. But
someplace other than

here.

And I wished it would go on forever...

When that dream left me, it felt as though
Father died again.

This morning, I drank my coffee cold
and kneaded a little more dough that could
last until late December, when it starts to
get cold again.

I stand up, tired of watching the snow fall;
tired of watching everything fall because
I still can't fathom the inevitable - you
and I too - we would soon fall.

I snuff out the flame, sweeping the memories
under the bed; tired of my own thoughts.

09/03/12
*Random thoughts...