remnants

isn’t it curious

how desperately we try to leave ourselves behind

our lives are nothing but filling up vessels

hoping that something (someone) can contain us completely

and us, the source,

flowing until our very last breath

what vessel do you choose today?

is your paintbrush spreading oils, acrylics, watercolors

is it depicting what you see?

or is it your testament

look,

i was here

i created

remember me

when you take your lover’s hand

how tightly do you choose to hold it?

remember me

the way i laughed

the way i smiled

the way i hoped

when we part, will you still remember this laugh?

this smile, this hope

will you laugh, smile, hope, cry, scream, run, dance, sing

with traces of my life blending into yours?

are we separate

or just an accumulation of the other

can we ever be separate?

when you lay your head to sleep

what dreams haunt you now

do monsters lurk over you, envelop you

in their shadowy, treacherous embraces

or do they prefer to lie under your bed

as if reenacting a fond episode

from a childhood long forgotten,

but maybe tonight is a good night

and your dreams are free

where flowers never wilt

and nights never end

when you go to transcribe these dreams

how many details can you scribble down

before they’re gone forever?

i am always reminded of

handprints desperately, eagerly

plastered against rough walls

red, black, white

voidless silhouettes and infinite outlines

proof we existed

proof that when we become nothing

proof that when we join the earth and the sky

proof that when we remember nothing

we walked this world,

the same as you

Cover photo/art source: https://mindfuldrawing.com/2017/09/21/prehistoric-hands-invite-and-confirm-communication-with-the-dead-by-paula-kuitenbrouwer/