startled
by the sound
of my
imagination,
woken by a feeling
i assumed had
passed,
taken with a sight
that refuses
to let
go,
settled by the voice
of someone i
used to
know.
shadow work
shadow passenger
on train
nods as he
passes
by,
i’ve never caught
his face,
although we’ve
met eye to
eye.
stepped through
a dream
and found myself trapped
in someone
else,
till i became the
voice
to summon my
release–
for the dream within
a dream to
cease.
you made room for
my words–
i crowded your
mind,
you offered real
time–
i seized more than
my share,
you proved that
you cared..
far more than
was fair.
a rain kissed
stroll..
past the old
haunt
reminds me why
we moved
and rekindles
wistful
mood.
“these streets aren’t
for people”
you said,
from your crack in
the wall,
i stepped out to
prove you
wrong
to prove i could
still get on
with..
strangers are now
all that i
know.
a conversation
fades..
and pupils
float,
as silence becomes
wedged
deep in our
throats.
we licked the
tears
from each other’s
photo
then wiped the dust
from ducts of
our eyes
and shut a tattered
album
reaching for our
camera
with a spark of
inspiration.
we were kindling
for a fire..
we knew would dim
by morning
but surrendered
our hearts
gladly
to
the
flames
vowed we’d not
lose touch
then found ourselves
distracted by
attractions..
still, i miss you
much.
hands in the garden 
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