I stayed under the moon too long.
I am silvered from
Collecting the names of the lovers
Who treated me like flowers
In those two arms
And threw sorry along with me.
Both crushed into a pile of memories
Of little and little more of their lives.
It’s a fact all that is silver
Doesn’t have a lining.
Not all those who are crushed,
Fade.
Sometimes you don’t need a line
But a fork to pick yourself up.
Especially, when that building came down
Before you could find a way out.
So, I cross my heart and
Find my place in a corner of
The elevator shaft.
These cold days of December
Burn brighter than the sun.
As I watch the elevator
Coming down, I realise
Why was time invented.
Slow and steady is the promise
While time unceasingly moves
In one direction
And usually heals if you let it.
Screw that, it’s paradoxical
That I break myself, to remake myself.
Like every other brilliant process
It takes time.
