Circles and Beads
We forget. So
we cut our bangs again,
find the same people
to love again,
break time apart
losing the same
pieces to start again.
I forget. So
I wish to pass you
on the busiest street
in town, walking
runway model steps,
talking English
on the phone.
You forget. So
you step aside,
my back unknown
graffiti on the wall
that you erased.
Time forgets. So
it ticks from twelve
and back again
as I count my days
before I fall.
Perhaps you do too.
Life is just a bead in
the prayer of the world.