You're nothing but a blur as you pass me,
but there was something special about the way you moved.
It struck me like how lightning strikes a tree,
and leaves it to burn from the inside out.
I think I remember you.

Forgive me for stopping you here,
but I swear we have met before.
Didn't we once sit under the tree that we held so dear
in our young hearts, by the banks of the sluggish, brown river?
Do you remember me?

Your eyes stare back at me so blankly
and I felt my heart sink like those stones we once skipped
drowning in the sluggish waters when you said so frankly
that you have never seen me before.
And yet I remember you.

Why do I remember you
when you don't remember me?

i sat there for the
longest time.

In the dark-
in that small,
small space and

fabric rustled around me
with every shift and every
movement and change.

I watched, through
the small crack of light,
the shadows
dance and the soles of
shoes pass.

I tried to make sense
of their movements
the sounds that come
out of their mouths.

Their interactions.

After the longest time I
decided to stand up
from the floor
of that small, dark space.

Quietly,
I put my hand on
the ****, and it turned.

I crept out
of that space.
Timid, unsure.

I don't think
anyone noticed.
I'm glad.

I'm still not quite...

there yet.

Death, my friend, is in everything
we touch
the small porcelain cup
which holds my coffee
the tiny silver spoon that
stirs my mind

our breaths are numbered
assigned at birth
watching your chest rise and fall
as you sleep
I count
trying to formulate between us
the perfect equation

my deep and dire dreams
redeem me
no lunar memory remains
I'm transformed with no recollection
precious state
dissolving ribbon
a fresh organism
cells renewed
a sloughing off of the night
a hatching
perhaps, after all, there is a soul

She was a mirror
In human form
Hated by most
Loved by many