Quilts of clothes, balloons in the sky,
so many ways to remember those
who have died and left our sorrows
to multiply. I talk to you and wonder
where you are, do you glow like a
shining star, a wise mystic whom
nothing caustic can touch? Are you
near or far, or both, a thin membrane
dividing life from death that only
thought can get through, an angel
or demon, when I think of you do
you know it, are you happy or stoic?
All I want is peace for you and me,
wishing that you were a part of
what I do or think, of what I say,
whether I whisper or scream.
When I die, will you greet me,
will you refresh my soul and bring
it home? My companion, how I
miss you and wish you could be
by my side, how I am hoping you
glide through an alternate reality.
I dream of you but I wake before
we touch, I don’t know how to
express it, I love you so much.
I put my brave face on to conquer
the day, I fold up my thoughts of
you and put them away, in my
secret drawer, in my subconscious
mind, hoping that’s not the only place
that your soul will survive. My courage
is shakey, my effort is spent. I can
only look forward to seeing you again.
I put my thoughts aside, I recollect
myself, I must go on without knowing
according to experiences, I must
define and time I could not invent.
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