The passage of time
makes the picture of the heart clearer.
Whatever was thought as important
becomes but a blur in the background
while half-forgotten things come to the front.

A cigarette shared in the dark,
the curvature of a smile,
the perfume filling the air,
the delicate way in which eyes first crossed sights;
all seemed such random occurrences,
so lacking in memorability,
all seemed like they were gone for good.

But the more time comes between
the many faces of us,
the more those kinds of memories are brought back to mind,
connecting us to who we were.

We keep losing our shadow
and it keeps appearing in the most peculiar places.

I can't help but wonder
where will it appear next?
What will be loved tomorrow
that has been forgotten today?