Everything is cast in a new light now that there's space around it.
Opacity becomes transparency, revealing all the ways your tenderness hardened like a butterscotch candy in an old dish. Resting on
an oak table in a country kitchen, a relic in time and a rival in age.
I forgot your birthday, and you forgot mine.
We were only ever reminding each other of ourselves, anyway.
The negative spaces take shape between the solid forms. The presented self made up by what it lacks.
We are children, re-acting, becoming what we seek to solve.
Perpetuating the supposed forgotten,
You are the living memory of your ghost.
Sound connects now to then, asleep in the passenger seat of your car.
Raindrops on the windshield blurring shapes and colors, city lights, unrecognizable.
Third street, a horrible nightmare.
Interconnectedness. I am a-part of you.