I am pretending you did not exist.
Ink nightly washes black
over my consciousness
and abandons me as morning seaweed
upon a foreign beach.
I am pretending we were simply
the sparkling imagination of some higher being,
our life together set below a singular epic sky
in future histories.
I am pretending I cannot taste you
each day as I do the sea air in my breath
when I am running,
my heart tied upon one foot,
ancient melancholy tied upon the other,
madly racing through lifetimes,
to find our brightened souls.
I see you in colors that don’t exist.
It is all that I see clearly.
and why I run.
Copyright (c) 2009 Paul Matsumoto. All Rights Reserved.