Time has once again stood still... not for the world, but for myself. It was yesterday when we visited last... we slumbered as the world and it's chimers kept singing. During my departure, I found myself surrounded by an increasing supply of incoming traffic... the blankets were left off of the cages and those canaries adore each others music. I have mourned and wept, birthed and re-birthed, died and died again... siren songs behind the alluring eyes in photographs. Still, new memories haunt me as they scamper and borrow themselves within the others... and they all look the same. I was moved beyond words, that early autumn morning, to discover some company within this congregation of slumber... new and refreshing in both sight and scent. Alas, the time went too quickly and the builders returned to their masonry and now, nothing remains... unlike the others, these letters will go without the collection of dust. They will not stain with yellow and become torn by the creases that hid their sentiments... for those times were in here, the land of bright white and the paperless. The absence still stings and the reasoning unclear, but I ushered you out just the same. The door was closed and the tears bleed in unison, but your departure was as quick and haunting as our first meeting. I remind myself that it was an experiment, one of social understandings, but the results were all too familiar... there are lines in the playground, ones not meant to be crossed. Beyond the walls and hardened heart of confusion awaits a new destination of plenty... my sour womb of barren children. Kicking lifelessly and dropping low within me to burst forth once more with gripping hands and rotten flesh... together forever, time and time again.
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