myelegia:

In between every shadow,
You lay like the sun, at rest
You seep into every memory,
every photograph finds you
Reflected within it,
even when you were never there.

And all the dreams I have
Are open invitations,
My mind, a stage without actors
Set To draw you in

Do you remember the gesture?
Do you remember the words?
Perhaps you never said them,
But if you speak now,
It will be full of comfort,
And nostalgia, as if
we are returning
From a long, tiresome journey
And are at last home.

The past shall be like the future
For us, unmade, undetermined
And we will weave them together
Into the present—
We can make the stories up
Like children, full of fancy
Set to our own internal rhythms
We will tape the like cut outs
Over older memories, now discarded
We will rewrite all our histories
With this story
That has secretly been waiting
To blossom forth and consume us
With the long, unending mystery—

And every day,
Each ending will become
A beginning
Until we’ve sewn together
The neck and tail
Of time.