Now.

I
don’t know now,
what mysteries your eyes tell;
not because
I
could never look into them,
without the fear
of it all slipping away;
but because you ,
never let me.


I
don’t remember
the feel of your hands in mine;
and it was not
I
who made me forget,
what it was like
to hold them with ease;
but the memory I had,
eroded itself.

I
don’t smile
at our song anymore;
even though
I
feel every note burst,
as true as the voice
that said it loved;
but inside me,
the voice grew silent.

I
don’t recognize
what lucidity your words hold;
not because
I
am lost within their maze,
of contradictions
and fear.
But because from these,
love, never broke free.