a cold cold brick
I touched and saw my history
and now yours.
now with me.
13 years my home
with ideas written in novels of this same old stone
I wish
sometimes,that I had
continued sleeping
in this dream that ends
with age
continued sleeping
not to awake to a day of hoarding memories
that will not fit easily
into tiny boxes of what was
my life here
I would work with lies
that tell of your inadequacy
and form a strong strong wall
which should not fall with your dreams
of a future I never believed.
I beg you silently as I need
to reverse this relentless motion
of our happiness
How do I ask you
to stop?