There's space between us (lullaby memorial.)

I've collected many things;


Photographs from trash cans, I imagined their discarded

history destined for the waste disposal. Everything loved

is slowly tossed away. Every tear somehow carries

a new memory, where has everyone(all these things*?) left us.


Letter's soiled with laments and bruised ink. Everything

seems to bleed into each other, the words meant for

others carry me into feelings of deep intimacy. I dream

of writing replies to solidify the links of our solitude,

we have both been abandoned.


Plush dolls still have indents from

finger tips that seemed to never pry loose. Lovingly

dragged through hallways, supermarkets, marveling

through the passenger seats in foreign vehicles, the

sunlight peering through the leaves made everything

seem so new. At last detachment came in the form

of four walls and solitary glimpses of shadows

through the shades. I remember, do you? The warmth

of the sunlight while being held by others.


I've combed every street, every trash can. The litter of my

America, the collective memory of forgotten objects renewed

by my presence and yet myself, I have become forgotten.


A relic;

The one man who remembers, the warmth

that's created when two bodies transcend

the space between them.

My first love

I wiped her tears,
 Spreading mascara
Everywhere.

"I love you"

 yes, I did.
I said it
 Then disappeared.