he takes photographs of forgotten things.
an umbrella left, still dripping, on a train seat.
a toy rabbit, well-loved, with one ear chewed off.
it was on the side of the road.
a christmas card from somebody’s mother,
still in its envelope.
and now, he points the camera my way.
it flashes.
i forget to smile.

A last word whispered
Before we go quietly into the night.
No more stars to light our way
No more colors painting our dreams.
We loved, lived fiercely
Tumbling through storms of imagination.
Too late now for reruns
Much too late for serenades.
Ghostly hands caressing
every particle of our beings.
Chance glimmered like the morning star through veils of sensibility.
Ripping apart matter of physical logic,
Shoving reasons far, far behind doors
meant to lock out mad desires
haunting spells and sweet promises...
But
despite all the rationals
and hopeless day dreaming.
Believe me when I tell you.
You are loved.
Never forgotten.
Always my only.
And destined for
whatever your heart want.
Be true to faith
Aim high.
The answer is not to know it all
But to believe.

Legacy of Z