Sand paper hands
And blanket warm skin
Help her though, she can't remember the smell
When's the last time you spoke the single syllable she loves so much
And how is it that you cause her a tornado of emotions
While all anyone can hear
Is white noise
You walk past her like she's a ghost
It's silent, but look at her! She's screaming your name!
Her knuckles are white from holding on
Her fingernails imprinted on her palm
Foolish, foolish girl
Let no one justify her mistakes
Because it was you wasn't it, who blindfolded her
You spun her around, told her to run, and when she opened her eyes
You would be there....you would be there
She's still spinning
Waiting for the right time to sprint

It's been two months
And I don't know when the Berlin Wall will be demolished
But I know inevitably the East and the West must be reunified.

I sat in that garden for two months
Tending to the flowers you planted there
But you never came to visit them yourself
And Why was that?

Granted, we only rode that bike for two months
Until you pushed me off the handle bars
Because there wasn't enough room anymore
But you stopped pedaling a long time ago anyway.
I know it was barely two months
But you rode by the next day and waved to me as if nothing had happened
And I was confounded.
One night in the midst of those two months,
I took the bike out myself
And I crashed and the spokes all came loose;
And you never rode it again,
But what difference does it make since you left it there to rust.

After two months,
The Berlin Wall still remains,
The bike has been reduced to scrap,
And today I carried a book full of pressed flowers down to the basement
And replanted the garden with fresh sod.