invasion

you and your city fell around me while i slept.
i woke up to find you replaced her and the world
she built around me.

your roads stretch from where i stand,
the perfect cuts of stone piled upon perfect cuts of stones
parry a glimmer out of the morning light,
out of a familiar sun i am sure i have never seen before.

all your constructs synch into a scripted ballet of physics,
and it is unlike the mad and random flailing i remember.
all your constructs hum together a calculated mathematical heartbeat,
and it is unlike the chaos of prose and poetry i remember.

it is the sound that betrays the difference best:
the blaring echoes against concrete and hardwood and glass and steel
ring hollow against the memory of the strings of whispers
she once blew into my mouth.

but why do i look like each passerby one way or another,
and somehow i know your languages?
somehow a few of you know me and blatantly spit greetings.
somehow your scents and your sights all beg for my admission,
that they are familiar,
that they are mine,
that they are all i ever had,
but i shall not be deceived.

you are all aliens and you do not know you failed to steal from me
the memory of my love.



2011.mar.23