Sunday, June 21, 2015


These things transgress. Today is what there is- a dried coffee cup, an unread newspaper (I only use the coupons, anyway.) Time is a concept dubbed elemental, but even little children understand- the sun daily must set, and sometimes, people are no more (but everything must remain the same.) Where I live these days, the moon nightly sinks in the sky after dark settles in. and everything is strange and nothing makes sense (yet I have long ago forgotten why.) Tomorrow no longer propels me as once it did, for here is now and present I must be. These years pass out of my control and often, I think of you (but the one I remember never you were.)