My memory plays tricks,
Upon my shallow vision -
Images play over ticks
Of the clock's impositions.
Sudden moments when
I see you as you were -
In the throes of the sense,
Of touch you'd never felt before.
Odd it is that I still feel
Some of the sensations from before -
A sense of warmth and
A surge of affection, unprepared for.
You're there, oblivious -
To the consternation you cause;
And all this happens
As you puzzle through some strange clause
In books of law that
None would ever want to read -
In a pall of boredom
A sense of longing doth breed.
No sense in madness -
My rationale returns,
Fuck the sadness, it says -
In a voice that's very stern.
Move along now,
There's nothing to be seen -
And even if there were,
It's somewhere you've already been.
No good can come of
These baseless insinuations -
That time has passed,
Beyond your initiation.
So live without your memories, old man.
You'd be better off without -
For in this haze of regret and woe
Your shallow peace may drown.
Too much time has passed for the spark
To recover it's heat -
It's best to write this elegy,
And quietly retreat.
