Nostalgia Diorama
I’ve been rummaging through my old notebooks the other night and I stumbled upon a little piece of paper that sent a wave of nostalgia…
and I almost drowned.
Anyway, the year was 2005 and I wrote this during the summer for a certain someone. It’s as if I was watching a highlight reel of 2005 as I was reading this. Words DO have power indeed.
Our breaths invisibly embracing in the air
The volt of your eyes illuminates the darkness hidden
inside the gloomy corner
of what lies between my chest
Nebulas forming in our mouths
The smoke coming out matches the galactic magic
of nebulas appearing in what we call “space”
Lights in a borealis,
your own constellation
flecked (i cant figure out the word because the paper is dead and flakey) by dots of ash
flown on the jetblack of your pants
Lead ink, paper and eternity
Gray strokes and fire lines
construct images of our masterpiece
your grave unfolds into a
flawless sculpture made of kisses
we extract beauty out of obscurity
and we both put our imagination on paper
smeared on the porcelain of my skin
is your thumbmark etched in lead
I will never erase this
In our canvas is a dancing soul, marveling
taking its form out of the nothingness we both have
an epiphany of dancing souls drawn on paper
Celestial reveries of a forlorn spirit
stars are meant to be wished upon
and I wish to know what am I to you
Am I another cosmic fantasy?
A stellar dream?
Or am I a star too?
Unlike them,
I don’t want to wonder
I want to know
Unlike them,
I’m not scared
I’m scarred.
In just a span of couple of months, the world does a 180 on me and I respond with this:
forget that I lived
that I ever existed
forget that I loved you
and love you yet
forget the bright moments
that we together feasted
forget one and all
even the place we have met
forget the lips
that were made for you only
forget the tears
that for you I have shed
forget the words
that were spoken so fondly
and think of them only
as words that are dead
and I shall remember my love in the darkness
that fell to nothingness
into the abyss below
oh yes, I know my love is a madness
and I shall cry for it when the lights are low
surreal….
but nice.