all, that was omitted

the last thing I remembered –

the moon looked me in the eyes,

before falling into the reflection of its own nakedness,

 into the abyss,

splashing black ink  at the shores of arising dreams:

 

spilled milk, a fog lost in the cloud,

strips of white silk woven into my hair,

 flowers in a vase,

forgotten for days.

I watched as they decayed,

while the  winter  glued snowflakes

over the sleeping landscape,

on my windows…

if I remembered my first thought, I’d have found the origins,

but I was spellbound by the stillness of a frozen river,

by the sound of the rising sun, your voice,

 a whisper of the dying day, by your name…

the first thing I saw

was the vastness of my failures

~NKO 2/10/13