Dying Peach Sun

A door closes,

with a bang

and a hush

I may never see these people again.

.

Shadows long,

with eyes facing forward

towards the dying-peach sun,

they walk out of

the empty doorway

sticking out of hourglass sand.

.

Their backs are a shade of dark indigo

caused by a frontal lit sun

shining on faces

I may no longer recognize

in years to come…

~

Leaning on the wood

of my own doorway

I too (try to) walk out of it,

only to be stopped in yet another.

.

This new doorway

is still made of the same wood

that grows out of my tree of life.

In reality I have not moved,

I have only shifted my perception,

all I did was reinvent myself.

~

Long ago

we parted paths in physical reality,

but I continued to meet my memories of you

in the mental reality belonging to me.

.

I have revisited

memories that sink,

memories that delight,

and memories that haunt

.

I have never forgotten

your names.

The names

of those who made an impression on me

as I made an impression on them;

of those that hurt

and those whom I hurt.

.

I wish I could apologize,

but the last I saw of you

the indigo blue darkness swallowed our ties.

Time has worn away

all familiarity

and lifelines.

.

It is too late for you.

It is too late for me.

I may feel regret.

You may feel regret.

But I hope that

if there inevitability

that we meet again,

when we do,

I hope you don’t

recognize me, even if I

recognize you.

.

I hope you see me

in a new light

and I can see you in a new light.

A light so bright

that it overlays the fading past

and I have the chance

to make it up to you.

to make a new impression on you.

As I hope you use your chance

to overwrite my impression and memories of you.

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