Detachment

Walk the same streets

With eyes anew.

Like the first time

Lost and awed amongst places that never existed before

Locked in the present

(un)Framed by the past.

Dead lives

Afraid of the future.

I am fear.

What is my purpose?

Revelations arise.

The smell of seaweed in the stairwell,

Love,

and Light,

Waiting surely

Behind one of these locked doors,

Eyes closed,

Body shivering in tortured anticipation against the frame.

The minutiae.

An atom, exploded

A ringing never answered

That might say,

Let me in

Come to find me

This time you will be saved.

A dream small enough to exist inside the void of a child’s tear

The space between the lines of miscommunication

greater than any ocean.

Living,

Lying,

Dying.

Tomorrow,

I set sail for a new shore.