Do you remember, years ago,
black night and frozen worlds together,
as we talked under fatal sky, rainy weather
shivering in collapsing unison?
We’re long apart now, and I think to myself:
What do you do now, in the world, for applause
as big as it is, with its colors and dogs?
It’s been a long time, you see, since I knew.
That’s what I’ve realized, in the odd moment,
now and then when the lift strikes a chord
to dispense of me onto another floor
in my own reality, now separate from yours.
My sight of such a once vivid past
has clouded as weeks and months fly by,
and soon I find that through a squinting mind’s eye,
I can’t remember your face anymore.
Where did you go, that night, once you’d left,
and where have you been since last we spoke?
And how have you been, and do you still smoke,
in the odd moment, like you used to?