Maybe we found love
Maybe we got lost
In translation
Maybe we just
Aren't the same.

Perhaps
It is our imperfections.
Perhaps
Time will halt
And seas will freeze
And the fires will cease.
And we will be perpetual.
But perhaps nothing
Is really ever created.
Perhaps you’re right.

I’m here somewhere;
Among the believers,
Between the cheats,
Within the walls,
Your favourite coffee mug,
My old raincoat,
Our patchwork blanket.

Forgetting is so
Destructive,
So damning.
But perhaps the best thing
Isn't forgetting.
Perhaps it is remembering.