Has been fragmented
Disjointed
Long and winding-
This road I'm on.
He asks me
What I was thinking of.
And I echo Gibran.
Saying things
Doing things
Silence from then on.
Loveless nights
And even more loveless mornings
For some time now
I've been looking at
Old photos
Ticket stubs
Restaurant bills
And wondering
What exactly's different
Or just not the same.
What I do know
Is that my being
Has been touched
Because when I look into your eyes
I seem surreal
You seem surreal
It all feels surreal.
When I switch off
The lights
On an evening
An evening of an approaching winter
Watch my share of the sky
Silhouette
Of a tree
And the intermittent twinkling
Of an airplane
From between the leaves
With the words
From a day together
A happy day together
When complexes
And inhibitions
Didn't cloud lives.
One life.
And then I chance upon
A recording.
A voice recording.
It all comes back.
Sight.
Sound.
Touch.
Smell.
Taste even.
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