The Past

— Ryo Yamaguchi

Since the word, the order and disorder, made fast. Since the length of a day pulled through thought. Since power and vacancy, since the fox and the nightingale. Since this circle of smoke touching the tops of our heads and the surface of the river below the field, shining like metal. Since the gift. Since the debt. Lines flickering into view. Since magic and the weight of the hidden. Since this heaviness. Since the inescapable. Pick yourself up and set yourself down. Since we loved and did not want to let go. Since the falling apart and the lashing together. Since hunger and mockery, since grind and twitch, the daily powering down. Since purchase, our satisfaction. Believing in the familiar. A room with a bed and a window and a book. Since the thunderstorm. Since insomnia. Since the memory of a distant promise. Birds disappear into the sky. The train station is empty. Since we came, since we left. Since it could be heard, faintly, without us.


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