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Nothing changed.

I hardly expected,

though part of me

wished. Sentimental

to the death, and I do

mean it literally.


what spell held us

there? some magic

in the air that made

so much love so

possible. Why then

does it end, the plane

step so final, the

smiles left abroad.


For every place

we went, I picked

a stone, a chunk

of memory to hold

on those overcast

and blank days

like this.


They are small comfort.

Only make the heart

yearn for what

it cannot have.

What is lost

over the years.


I spend the afternoon

pasting pictures in

an album, fixing

the smiles in place

like opening a doll's

eyes to make her

come to life; instead


we just look startled

the mind filling with

the question, Why

am I smiling? Who is

this person? As if one

day we went to bed,

woke up the next

day with a stranger.


I run for the safety of the doorframe.

I know the whole world is about to come down.

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