what remains of us?
words float away on radio waves,
circling your heart like a school of fish.
where do we go?
we are the final trick in the magic show,
you fold into a box as softly as a dove.
and when we love,
does it live on?
beyond the now,
the echoes sound
a million hearts
are beating out
and haunting
every living lover.
who lives in us?
I know the song your soul is singing
we are ghosts of a past, remembering.
what remains of us?
No comments:
Post a Comment