Dementia

A star in a mahogany night

shines darker than before.

I can’t remember the last time

I’ve looked up into the ink.

You and I rode this back rode as kids

your arm on my neck,

lips burning into my skin

we would stop, lights off

stare into the night

where that same bright star amidst the speckled

meant something different, we dreamt of love,

dancing on a gravel road, and passion.

Now there is something gone

maybe it’s just my fading eyesight

or something I’ve forgotten.

3 comments

  1. zeckrombryan · November 10, 2018

    Well written, depicted with wise choice of words. Keep up the good work. Have hope, write on!

    Like

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