When you forgot my name
last night,
it reminded me of the impermanence
of existing,
and the perilous ******* of words,
spoken or unspoken.
Words appear and disappear
in an instant
some remain long enough
to create bonds or barriers
but always disappear.
Three of these little words can
create waves that in one
moment caress the toes and then
collapse the lungs of the most
vulnerable places deep, deep inside
making a simple breath
painful.
I saw my name last night
hanging in the air
amongst all the previous words
of the night
and as I reached to bring it back
it was carried away by a gentle
breeze out the open window to the
darkened sky.
This gave me the freedom to
crawl back into the shadows and
observe.
I could see all the words
that night
as they hung in the air
each one
trying to remain,
jockeying for position,
but always being replaced,
some words hanging longer than others.
Then I found myself floating amongst
those words,
trying to find one I could grab onto,
to make mine.
I languished in the air
as each new word appeared,
I was bathed in the warmth of their breath,
massaged by the whirlpool
of interaction,
each word melting into the others
until they were without beginning or end
until I was without beginning or end,
nudged by a gentle breeze
toward the open window
to a darkened sky.