A man who never made mistakes, never made anything
Sometimes I think I am a circus mirror reflecting you in these
unpredictable ways. Like meteors that fall in any direction
they choose. Like the dew that falls indiscriminately on
everything. Like an old photo from a place and time we can’t
remember. Just look. I have a pen full of birds and stars.
I have a reservoir of old dreams, veils of rain and hope.
I have this love, you, I keep picking up whenever I’ve let it
drop, collecting these rags of words, these tattered phrases,
that fill those times I remember how little life there is without you.