l u r k

Now what of you from a place in my memory from a memory in the past from the past I barely remember anymore Is there any more you will be to me than a phone number I cannot call than a photograph in my computer screen than a newspaper article I've read and reread again and again Are you more of a loss or a gain- like the profit from falling for love and the debt from falling apart in love and all its constituents from butterflies to monsters to daydreams to tear drops to fireworks Because this want works like fire works to burn then burn out but never like the fire in your eyes of passion and compassion that builds fire then stays burning up unless in exchange of more match sticks you have for today Will you forever be a thought from night to day from all the merriment I encounter to all the melancholy after a thought I'll remember more striking than a bad news typed in boldface This might be like all the others where I put on a bold face to pick up one by one the torn pieces of hope I set up way too high but not to fix any part of my heart fully secured from similar events from before tick tock tick tock there, like time, like them, off you go Off you go

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