perhaps you don't remember
those sempiternal moments
the ones that stalk our mind
perhaps you don't really care
who we were in our past
these sacred relics of our days
the remnants of desire—
now dissolved to naught

the onslaughts of memories
the plethoras of your smile
the wandering apparitions
of our time—
returns to haunt us now
breathing lies into our ear
pleading for sanctuary and yet
we deny them access;
encasing hearts in cement mix
and eyes behind cold steel

with a frantic brush of
tangled fingertips we
bid final farewell—
now even smiles from photographs
mock us with their twisted lips

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