The present and its ambiguity;

The present and its ambiguity;

The stillness of time, carried by the winds
towards the path away from sanity
to where total bewilderment breathes and
shadows sit in its all-consuming throne.

Where a hope survives inside the facade,
an affair with an agenda in mind,
where day comes and catches it from afar,
illuminating what eyes want to see

and the troubled mind wishes to let go.
Like marionettes in the deepest dark,
one hopes to ignite an illicit spark,
but marked are the words of a summer day—
in the dust of gusts and the sands of lands—
in memories that forever decay.

The point where the past reaches the present,
the guilty present abandoned it’s past,
where the forgotten begins to exist.
Behind her heels, a thousand miles follow.

Tolling, crawling, creeping to her body;
the struggle against chains of nostalgia,
currents of flirting winds aiding one to
the point of rendezvous– lonely escape.

A tie between the past and the present,
where the present submits, flirts with the past,
to create the bittersweet compromise
of a forgotten summer memory.

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