Passovers in Time

Last night the stars revealed their nakedness; you took flight to the Lost City
When the boy next door sat drunk on his rooftop, bewailing a love lost.

Sometimes, I see you enter the monochrome realm of a sundry pasts that shelve the love notes, promises and surreptitious togethernesses ...
Do you still care for them? If yes, then why don't you just do something, instead of sitting tight in some godforsaken island? If no, then why have you kept the remnants of those reminiscences that are too obsolete to matter anymore?

Let's not pretend, shall we? We far too busybodied to gnarl at ourselves. I think we've left that all behind! Timelessness has its appeal as does the lust for anonymity, and once we shell our skins with the mantle of familiarity, the rest is smooth sailing. Life in a society comes with its taxes and we are paying every bit of that mammoth interest.

Tommorrow's a work, the chores of which yell completion. Do you live a life like mine? Is it the surpluses that matter? Not so long ago it was believed that all is attainable, that you could, contrarily, "transcend". That's the word. Our events are created, tried and then stamped "approved". The events are dead, long live events.

Some things lose themselves. The moon loses itself in its phases. I've come to sleep through my losses, which spawn a lulled mind. The Buddha medidates quietly at midnight in a faraway forest ...