Again
…without you lying on the grass
next to me,
I can still hear your breathing
Next to me, the rustle of the leaves
matched against the sound
of children’s play,
she is in a dream world
a place I am not allowed to go,
the way his hand lays across his stomach
lets me remember a place
I will never go again.
The laughter of that child
is nothing without you.
“No expectations”
you once told me,
or perhaps that was someone else.
The whispers I hear
when the snow is falling.
I captured once, the image
of a blind man
tying knots into the world.
Sleeping now for six days
a spirit only wanders in his dream.
The steam, or fog, or smoke
wraps around daylight
attempting only to grasp a reflection.
I can see the world
falling between us;
the words dropping just short of…
sinking fever from meaning
tumbling gasps into my throat.
Commitment of our energy;
we are becoming…
Something tells me I should wake up
the ringing and ringing and ringing
clinging to my ears.
Can someone retrain this memory?
erase the roads I don’t need memorized anymore.
Erase how I used to trace into your skin,
erase this sight of you,
erase the once was,
once were, once because, once since.
I think about this once since.
Something’s wrong once since,
once words cease flow,
once my hand is not my hand.
Not the same moment.
Not the same since.
There is a distance between reflection
and true skin.
Depth perception makes things quite different,
Unrecognizable.
This is once truth.
- Pisarczyk
