Tuesday, February 8, 2011

be, BEING, been

You resonate clearly through my mind
a faded echo of yesterday
Roaming through empty hallways,
smeared mascara,
bleach blond ghost.
That's not you anymore.
Letting your fingers slowly glide
over opalescent waters
to lose track of the hours in incandescent lighting
nails, bent and broken
That's not you anymore either.
Lost between layers of plastic,
stems and seeds,
glass bottles and worn shoe soles
waiting impatiently with an empty gas tank
and purring engine.
Those weren't your best days.
Soap dried hands,
early mornings, late nights
and remnants of who you were
to tempt you in the silence.
Luckily these moments do not define us.

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