The Ether

___

once, there was in its stead a

broad lush meadow stained magenta;

they called it evergreen. a plain

a place a fixation and if you wanted

to cross its fickle ferns bodacious blades

all you had to do was relinquish your

world for a new scape of memories

___

___

humbly, so tentatively, i dashed across the

rose bushes who sang soft little songs when i 

approached and belted broad boisterous melodies 

when i departed. 

___

my head, once a weight attached

by two thin strings of skin onto my shoulders, was

a weightless entity and i fully embraced this lack 

of cognition. what I did embrace: golden mornings 

on the chateau, daisies dipped in dew, gentle yet

gargantuan hum of working class bees and their

honey, resplendent with classical knowledge

___

years later, the memory waning and waxing like the 

crescent moon, i peer hopefully at my lover. the

unspoken question adorns the dense air of distance

accumulating between us.

___

it would be a cumulonimbus cloud.

___

i open my mouth, and the question flits from 

that hopeful cloud to the tip of my tongue:

___

“do you remember the world we once remembered?”