We met
We talked
We chatted and fretted
About the world, its state and its art
Sticky news and ideas of the soul
We laughed at the strangeness of our surroundings
The values of our hearts
In our hearts
We spoke of virtue and
The vestiture of our darker thoughts.
I told her I was lost
Driven into a world
Far removed from my own
I showed her my flaws
And my petty ignorances.
She seemed to accept it all
Like they were her own.
And then we spoke some more.
We spoke of our nakedness
Dreams I had dreamt
The powers of our flesh
The magic of nostalgia
The loss of love
And family
Scars
Obscure independence
And independent musicians
Their floral voices
Beatific guitar play
We spoke of escape
To lands not ours by birth.
In the midst of our nights
Time grew on us
Like a moss floating over
The bright red bricks of romance
Our iron clad days had started rusting
Stains emerged
Turning the white to brown and then black
Angers surfaced
As we stopped talking.
These were days
When we had the most to say
Too many hours spent in our minds
Victims of alexithymia.
We carried the curse of fate
Slowly, accepting the truth of our lives
The inevitability of entropy
We had spoken of last times
But this was too soon, we knew so
So we spoke our coda
Using powers greater than words
Hoping to survive.
