Up Here
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Is it "up" here?

What you aren't looking for?

Dust bunnies where long worn memories fade?

I saw you drop that pencil. Saw it slide out of view. Out and through. To be forgotten.

It sits in the dust.



Is it up here?

Who you aren't looking for?

The spaces you and I insist are "me"?

What brittle fervor. Three years to hold you. My cracking skin. To be forgotten.

It sits gathering dust.


Am I up here?

When you aren't looking?

An eye that blinks just one lid closed?

Ashes in the breeze. Caught on forgotten and unfelt winds. Laid to rest. To be forgotten.

I am dust.


Am I "up" here?

If not, which way?

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