The Strangeness of Familiarity
How can one once so familiar become so strange?
The ease and flow of conversation, so stilted?
Awkward even. Our 'in-commonness' a rarity?
Our connectedness disconnected?
The once passionate embrace a tentative touch:
a 'should I or shouldn't I' interrelation.
Now so different to then - a then quite recent,
yet distant in its memory.
Do you feel the same as I? Or do you not feel
any more? Do you no longer love me?
Or have you simply forgotten that you once did
- or I you, so vehemently.
Where did we misplace it? Carelessly lost
like the guarantee for the cooker.
Perhaps it too can be found amongst the
rancid rotten waste in the bin.
How remiss we have been: carried on the wave
of daily activity. Ships passing in the night
without even a 'hoot' of acknowledgement.
Two separate shadows in the darkness.
This is a dangerous game we are playing.
A contest with two losers and nothing to win.
Come search the contents of the bin with me.
We may just find what we are looking for
in the mucky murky depths of memory.
Or at the back of a disorganised drawer somewhere.
If we search our hearts, maybe it still beats there?
We'll never know unless we try.
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