Say we surrendered to the act of forgetting. Allowed the slow
passing of our senses, lost in the movement
of fading into absence -- wave adieu
as they exit the broken doors of our hearts
to slip through the slits of our fingers.
Say the first to leave is sight, a wave of nihility in its wake
save for a fog of apology as it clothes our world with darkness,
to have touch and taste follow suit. Straining for sound
we get nothing for hearing has thereafter left
with nary hiss nor hoom.
Say the last to leave is our voice, forfeiting
our right to ask of the world
that has nothing left to offer.
Nothing left to tell of our story
that we are not given time to remember.
Say would you be willing to want this?
To go as far as forgetting, no longer
be bound by memories deceitful?
Would you? Forget and be
something else, someone else
with me. Shall we?
Make it new.
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Say something! And you don't even have to rhyme or wax poetic.