A token of loss.

The fact that a trip can't last makes the illusion cruel.
And yet, you take it.
Who wouldn't choose that over this?
And yet, the thinking itself reached an end, dwindled.
You can't return
without leaving part of yourself in the site dwelled.

You find yourself at the edge of oblivion.
The tacit rapture. Tzion. Nirvana.
The heaven that makes you up.
The souvenir photo shows you
as you've never been yourself there.

You weren't even here.

This stone from back then:

look, without my memory --


it is just a stone.

My photos of her

presence: the pile of dishes,


the untidy bed.

Basic Attention Token
we all gotta cache, like a cistern.

Tis tension implanted deep in lower chakras
more, more, teasing, tugging, twisting
crying ever, more, more,
…
it is a flaw,
go, and stay connected, I understand
-- wait
-- the txt is for the single participant act
no mention is made, save the very act, guest
I guess, we guessed,
the man got away,
but, nobody asks,
like I assume they assume they know
- taken, in the very act -
full, full, fill the law to the jot
whittle me a key,
pick this lock, unravel the complexity.
- casting lots for the garment
- knitted from one thread,
New Testament Greek between the himatia 
(literally “over-garments”)
and the seamless robe,
which is chiton,
(literally "tunic" or "coat").

https://kenpepiton.com/?p=1273

Blue eyes
White lies
Broken hearts
And shattered parts
Long nights
Too many fights
Life was good
Until our mouths filled with blood
A time never to be forgotten
Even tho things got so rotten
A love I’ll never forget
Although I know you’re filled with so much regret
To much pain
Then we both got vein
hurtful words
Cut us down like swords
Swords straight to our chests
How can we fix this mess?
No amount of sorry
Could ever fix the worries
A love so kind
Made us both so blind
I could never forget those times we shared
Once you really cared
A dedication of my life to you
It left me so sad and blue
Something so broken
It needed the token
Token to the bright
Token for no more fight
Energy severed
Expectations lowered
Now were both the ones hurt
And left deep down in the dirt.

Tumhari tarah sabdo ,
Ko kagaj par utarna nahi aata mujhe,
Par fir bhi koshish karti hu likhne ki.

Likhna aata nahi fir bhi likhti hu,
Tum Tak apni baat pahuchane ko.
Aisa nahi hai ki mujhe pyaar aata nahi jatana,
Bas Teri majbooriyo ke aage kamjor pad jati hu,
Likhti hu tujhe ye Dil ka haal sunano ko,
Bas likhti hu tuhj Tak ye sandesh pahuchane ko.

Snapshots
by Michael R. Burch

Here I scrawl extravagant rainbows.
And there you go, skipping your way to school.
And here we are, drifting apart
like untethered balloons.

Here I am, creating "art,"
chanting in shadows,
pale as the crinoline moon,
ignoring your face.

There you go,
in diaphanous lace,
making another man’s heart swoon.
Suddenly, unthinkably, here he is,
taking my place.

Published by Tucumcari Literary Review, Romantics Quarterly, Centrifugal Eye, Poetry Webring, Poetry Life & Times and The Eclectic Muse. Keywords/Tags: snapshot, picture, photograph, photo, album, memory, keepsake, remembrance, token, memento, art, replacement