I have begun dreaming of things best left unsaid, things best left to gently slide into oblivion far beyond the edge of consciousness. Here there are voices, and fleeting faces, floating by as though swimming in some nebulous unseen ether. I would blame malaria or the slew of unknown brews at Dame Hayatou’s, but these are things I have seen in the flesh – less the twisting, less the turning in the dead of night and the turmoil that brings them back to mind. These are the memories of a not so distant past, of what-ifs and maybes and could-haves blatantly refusing to accept the cold hard facts..
She says the world is neither black nor white but sketched in different shades of gray, I think it is etched in black and white and filled in with different shades of gray.
Word for word,
we beat the love
out of each other.
There will yet be more words…..