[a series I have been working on]
[part one can be found here]
I wonder--did those strange scents jar
your memories and dreams toward
unseen collisions with silence,
that wrong kind of quiet made dense
with soft specific sounds that spell
a place far deeper than our well-
used alphabet of ancient objects?
Our limbic world just disconnects
over time. Our temporal selves
get disheveled. Cerebral shelves
do not suffice any more. We
strive to hold things in place, but see
only place-holders and when age
eats worlds, the words fall off the page.
[from a series I have been working on]
How many times did you wake up
in the night, find an empty cup
and wonder where your mind used to
be, your self alone and just you
in the bed, and just the one bed
with unfamiliar sheets, your head
on a strangely scented pillow?
I would have brought her there, you know,
for you to hold, and not for me.
You needed her more. I can see
that now. I would have stood close by,
just a ways, and averted my
gaze; let you have your time alone
as I tried not to turn to stone.
...no, I'm not "Missing part 1"...
...this is "part 1 of 'Missing'"...
...puttin' the Po' in NaPoWriMo...