Cities and suburbs, real and imaginary.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

i long for a day that will never come
with people i will never know
and drinks i will never taste
and food like nostalgia wrapped in gold
in a place i can only imagine
then, when i am done, i wonder
where all the lost days have gone
and all the lost dreams

there must be a guardian of hidden things
standing watch from the cupboards
with a flowery sword of forget-me-nots
that flood the nostrils with memories

guardian, my guardian, keep these things safe:
the woman i never had the courage to love
the man i never had the grace to kiss
the night i never had the stamina to dance
the morning i fell asleep again

i will borrow them from you someday
when i can bribe you with hot chocolate
in tiny thimbles placed in shadowy corners
all i ask in return is to give me

one peek.

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