On this new morning, as this new cold finds my old bones,
I think of you.
Today when your name surfaces on the silent lake
I do not row towards it, I do not push it down.
I stare and breathe as the water moves
you and me.
I stare, without making my knuckles red,
without holding onto you or myself.
The mist of time and the storms of words-not-meant
they rise and settle and we part,
just as we rehearsed,
just as we have performed a thousand times in life.
I look back and see only a sunrise of a color you’d like.
I float a thank you, a broken oar towards you,
a hope for your life and some peace for mine.
All that I have loved has been eaten away by time.
Your body, your mind is now broken
into thousand scattered restless dots of dust
so when I think of you, in my mind
you are the life of the light. So unlike your presence in my life.
You remain that even as I lose my grasp
over the meaning and texture of love.
I forget what we were really like.
So I often get to miss you. You often make me smile.