seraphemera (seraphemera) wrote,
seraphemera
seraphemera

all that is left is yours

when we leave here
pack up our new tech bag
and saunter off
into a darkening sunset
with a great big grin,
the crowning achievement
of our smoke signal escapade
will be the onslaught
of encroaching fools

all that is left
will be yours

forget all that was spoken from these lips
before time turned into clocks
sunrises turned into memories
and sunsets drove us inside for fear of the mysteries
bent to hover 'round the next corner
and have taken
all of the places that were
right down the wrought iron walkway of our alleys

all that is taken
was ours

do not tuck away crying words of masters
incessantly repeating the words of those who have come before
with the embarrassing revelation that all you have learned
is that “those who fail to learn...”
blah blah blah

do not ask where i will go
the hills or the plains
detroit or buffalo
for you already know
(although if you do not remember
look down inside
and realize
only you can draw the map
that leads to me)
and in being wrong
so many times
there is nothing but leaving
with which to make amends

so when the day arrives
and the calendar reads "realize"
this self imposed exile
(all a ploy
to escape the chains
deconstructed
all around our bodies)
will end
and it will be time
for you, too, to leave
resolving only within the walls of the theatre
which one might daringly
rhythmically
increasingly
call home
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