During the day
Our works save us from each other.

Television blares me out of your mind.
I chop vegetables. I peel away your presence.

We sleep, far away
right next to each other
Recalling memories
of fog-filled unreal times
when my prince had your face.
Me, your princess
dressed in joy.

And we sang the song of love…

How did the the many instruments of our song
begin to fuse into a monotone?

And the words that spoke of love

learn to speak a different language?
And when did my fabulous white gown
shred into a fog so dense?

Questions like these
paint our walls now.
Where a very present white
uncolours itself.

a river flows…

now a river flows like it always did. seen. dipped in. quenched from. nourished by. cleaned by. grown out of.

now a river flows by, like it did always - what is left of it. and what became of it. waged upon by unfriendly waters. carrying forth unasked baggage. and sands from every shore.

the same river flows now. incessantly. fed by rains and unknown springs. or majestic glaciers. for as long as forever. fighting your memory with its new waters. constantly. so that it remains the same river. that flowed there. then now and forever.