It’s
dark outside.
My
joints stiffen.
I
flex my fingers to relieve the tension
These
chronic pains get worse at night
The nights seem
intentionally colder
The
stars are shrouded by the cloud filled skies
With
every color tainted with shades of grey
The
rain pouring down can be heard thumping my rooftop
Pita
Pata
Pita
Pata
Conversation seems flaccid
Unnatural and awkwardly forced
But it been a while and I shouldn't be impatient.
It’s impractical to think that we would forget
Forget everything that has happened to suddenly be back to
normal.
Words are meager things
Frail and fickle
Squandered by the privileged tongue
Without proof - Without regard
Seldom without doubt
Alas! For what is the weight of words without action?
But a thoughtless contradiction
Just as feelings are a mental state
Easily removed as they came to be
But emotions, emotions are deep
They are apart of your being
The core of your expression
Emotion drives passion
Fuels it
That
what we remember is usually altered by our emotions
Emotions
and other thoughts at that time
Yet
I remain certain than ever that what I remember is real
Maybe
I fell in love with an idea
Still
stuck in testing phase
Possibly
latched onto a memory
In
turn forgetting much of what transpired.
Yet
here we are again Nicola
After
months without a word
Here
we are again. Whatever shall we do?
Olsfred
James 2014©
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