I washed Your feet in the desert 2000 years ago and You thanked me in a language I
have forgotten that I understand.
I have eaten three pomegranate seeds that have caused me to forget how to see.
I have hidden beneath the wing of a dragon so long that I have forgotten that I am cold.
I am trying to catch happiness with a fish hook even though I know this to be impossible.
The path I walk is paved with broken Scarab's wings and the sun is setting.
I am wondering if I can bring back the Dawn by canceling Springtime.
I don't remember which way it was..... me dreaming Him or Him dreaming me.
I have forgotten what color You told me your eyes would be the next time we met and
because of this, I don't know how to find You again.
Spending millenia seeking a color you have never seen before is the most exhausting
of tasks and requires a faith I no longer possess.
I know not for Whom I write these things, but I know that all of them are true.