Occasionally I am still haunted
By the memory of all the things
We didn't do outside of
My all too vivid imagination.

Occasionally a blank wall
Is replaced by the uncharted streets
Of an unfamiliar town to which
You were to introduce me.

Walls, gates, hills, alleyways,
Assembled from old photographs
And glances through windows and
From elevated vantage points
Melt together to form what
I imagined I would see
Standing next to you.

Should I call these thoughts
Regrets?
I doubt I would have changed
Anything; futile fantasies
Are all that I have now,
Not just of what couldn't have
Been, but of what cannot be.

I want to finish what
I began to rebuild, but
Realise you would rather
Stay on your side.

I'll find you if you find me.

08/19/2006

Posted on 08/20/2006
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