Like a chalk written on white board,
like a leaf that dies and shrivels.
It does not disappear immediately.
You just forget a little at a time
till fact and fiction is just an illusion.
I'll tell you what it is, that passerby
you'll never take a second look at or
a music piece forgotten in two months.
It's like a thread, cut to unknot.
A relationship you used to court
or a friend you used to know but now not.
Labels: Poem