Fluidity

Each second disintegrates
just within grasp -
etching a glyph
upon the inner scenery.
Slowly eroding dauntless complexities -
the private myth implodes.

What good regret?
So easy to forget.
The same deeds are repeated
and repeated.

And we ache for the sweet days.
Remembering long legs,
hardened with glistening muscles;
running across the beachhead
of our hearts.

The strands unravel;
minutiae gather into
a landscape filled with dunes
that bury the essential.


© 2003 Melissa Songer