If when you recall,

a sandstone walk,

bohemian ways

would you ignite

the fire, the sensation

of love, that current,

so rampant in motion,

that any recollection

could only satisfy.

Two people share

a life together,

brief travels

inside the mind

of each other,

yet years later,

after layers rife

with nostalgia,

we might try again,

beyond the fear

way past the righteous

neighborhood of

simple, narrow-minded

society. That blue

horizon always

damages the skin,

if allowed to fester

too long in one’s own

state of mind.

Rather we will step away,

and caress our wounds,

we will speak only

to those baboons

who make the rules,

at least those which

today we choose to follow.

I am alert to my own loss,

and yet awake to chance,

wishful of remarkable

legacy, though common

is the facade of our own

disbelief, so fueled

by a lackluster confidence

in the economy of the mind.

We are fooled easily.