Youth

Too early
Maybe not long enough for you.
Time passes, but discollaborated and weak,
I miss your presence,
much like her.

Is it her? Or the date?
or me?
I hope I cannot blame the latter.
although it probably will never matter.
I'm letting go of dreams I had hoped to gather,
I know I must.

Soon I will be old,
often the cause of change.
My heart is slowly growing cold;
I don't want to let go...
I will be aware of the world;
I hope also of you.

Innocence is fresh for you;
I'm remembering and reenacting.
My beliefs and hopes are true,
although futile.

Faded, inaccurate images of union
draw my attention to the door.
Incomplete emotions
fall to the floor.

I'm holding the memory close to my existence
although you are only a part of the memory now.
Importance depends upon the instance,
and you instantly touched my soul...
June 31, 1998