Weathered
Moss and speckled stone
Linger
In a place that I had known
Souring
Wrinkled fruit upon the trees
Creeping
On our elbows and our knees
Crackling
of the leaves and sticks below
Hunting
As it does when sun sinks low

I've seen your dreams
Murky, foggy
An old pier at the edge of the sea
The sky ill defined
And ever shifting

Such as it is in all dreams

From my perch beyond the glass
I watch your unconscious actions
A steady wading into still waters
Until the sea sits above your eyes

A silent bell tolls

Ushering in change unperceived
You walk backwards to shore
The slate grey sands
Shaped by your feet

You are not the same

You are changed
And though your head
Was not engulfed by the waters
It is only a matter of time

Before your mind is submerged as well

Beneath the ink black waves

Think

If indeed you still can

To the time before you were born

That vague murky half remembered feeling

Of uninterrupted stasis

Of knowing all that there is

Which is nothing

A contentment in obscurity

Both of body and mind

A time, or more appropriately a place

Where conscious and unconscious are one

Where all things intertwine and weave together

Remember it, for therein lies the key

Just think

Only for a moment

Recall it

If indeed you still can

Blocks settle inside my mind//
Bookends to the pages of us//
Pressed together but fallen apart//
Every poem a story, a seance to your ghost//
You're not dead but I am to you//
I'm on the other side tapping the glass//
Hopeful that someday a whisper of me//
Might graze across the valleys of your brain//
The memories would be kind, not of pain//
But that's just a fantasy//
And our love was just fiction//
It became stillborn in reality//

My dreams are invaded by you; I am besieged by emotions I'd rather not feel anymore//
Your spirit lingers on my lips and tongue; everything about you I cannot have//
It's the only place you meet me; it's all fiction, bittersweet fiction//
I'm left to wonder if it's you reaching out, or me stuck in the past; I cannot know//