to you again, as always

do you remember when we were kings and heros and artists and young?

what are these now, our current clothes, of thieves and slaves and foes?

who dressed and redressed me in all my naked shame?

i called you friend and my hazy mind left in the wake of the war that is life has not yet covered my memory of you

it is not for me

you are not for me

you are not even for this world

but you are forgettable because you have in fact forgotten yourself

and i grieve

not for your pity, not to your shame

but to your once bright flame and the future it held

i call out

i cry

not to you

not for myself

but to the wind and the sky and the oceans

all big enough to hold the dream that was you

but all to wild and vast to contain