sitting here,
dry.
the same empty feeling,
the same dryness of soullessness driving
an aggressive pact with the past.
Looking in at a life now gone,
I feel dissected by the eyes of strangers.
Am I now a desert?
today i feel like desert.
You, you have been the wind,
carrying parts of me
historic, abrasive elements
grains of me.
rushing at me
bringing them before in and around you
to erode a bit more
to break it down
and leave it dry
dissected
lifeless