All that can be said has faded away
and still we stand here, each waiting for the other to speak
as if our words aren’t laid at our feet
strewn there like corpses of a distant past
over whose slow death we ruled and did nothing
only watched the sea go by and wished to cross it
We each built our walls stone by stone
so slowly that the other never noticed
or never cared
Our handprints are fading in the sand where we lay together once
and watched the sunset through eyes closed
In this place we came to escape ourselves
they are now too wide open to see anything but the walls
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The house I’m living in now was built in 1900. I wonder what stories it might tell…
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Photo by Gary Edmonstone on Unsplash
The Light is On 
7 responses to “What’s in the Past”
That’s just beautiful. If only walls could talk, huh?
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What stories they would tell! (:
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With your talent, you’ll be able to many more beautiful stories that your house whispers to you….amazing lines of yours.
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I sure hope so. Thank you so much (:
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My pleasure ✨
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You are one of the few poets I can actually read and be transported elsewhere. Love it!
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That means a lot to me, thank you so much! Cheers (:
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