Sunday, March 19, 2017

time forgets me
it leaves me behind
so that I am in this dimension
that only looks like here
and all that is really real
is all that is not
and what of me
there is to see or know
is a hologram
projected on the screen
of this reality
and love is not a verb
that holds physical space
but only the light I gather
to dream
and what light I can flower
from inside the bud of dream
with hopes the illusion of perfume
will sometimes inspire
the illusion of beautiful here
and let something lost
but eternal in the limbo
hold my name for just a breath
in the way that time forgets me
but still the inspiration
of the light of love
sustains the beating and the evolution
of the phantom of my heart

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