Parallel (or non-parallel) lines.
Occupying my (our) life.
(Photo: “Man Walking Down the Side of a Building” by Trisha Brown)
Crossing through the red crosses
and the memories waltzing in my
veins; all pressing to the brain.
The lonely brick and my aching feet.
Only us witnessing the angry sky and
you, you were wading in my tears.
And once again confession(s),
across the years minus the
days, remains silent.