In between these lines
you can read all the meanings you want
because you have peeled off the paint
from our world of possibilities.

—–

All those evenings,
when the winter sun slowly sank
into your eyes, I waited for
your fingers to curl around mine.

—–

Dusk seeps into your eyes like
ink into paper and in that
gathering gloom I search for our former glory.

—–

As the rain fell between us
you picked up a pebble
and polished it with your silence.

—–

Turn the page over and look behind,
you will find stick figures holding hands,
imitation human beings, imitation love.

—–

The sudden attacks of nostalgia are the worst,
with transition comes a terrible clarity.
All that we wanted, all that we turned to dust.

—–

Once there was a dream that
took birth in the space between
two heartbeats. It now lies
on a stretcher covered by a white shroud.