After Years

Again we meet without
quite knowing the right words
which express, which connect
the things we might have felt
through young, shapeless shells.

We were in the lap
of something so simple,
100% together: a tingling
from the spine, a merry-go-
round of whirls within a vane
of a ballerina music box.

Toys, we tried to fix
ourselves fast. Neither you
nor I could shoulder
the absence of feeling. A soul
lost in memories -- a body
left out at sea.

We lie like castles of sand:
disposable, soulless... washed by
the salt of the roaring waves.
Together in limbo
with fabulous imprints on our frail,
discrete bodies.

As we stare at the ceiling,
we dream, we dream about nothingness.
Sweet, sweet chirping of sparrows
through partly-lidded windows.