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Postscript

I visited a forest and stood motionless under a canopy,
An early spring's heap of dried leaves crumbling under my feet..
The only sound their breaking bones..

I looked up to see a leaf falling..
Almost like a sole movement ..

Like a meteor rushing across a motionless sky..

My skin crawled with a memory
Whether from my mind or my gut,
I cannot tell.
There were instances like this before
With or without you.

That whenever I had done this before,
I had an assurance of the meaning of
The motionlessness being you..

The meaning that a leaf twilled through 
An universe like a shooting star..

That both will return to dust..

But that all of this was for you..

Yet today the leaf seemed to fall infinitely
And the star never completely burned..

Like there is motionless story that seeks no end.
I have tried to set you free often. And myself from you.

N You could. I still can't.
Because in the depths of what caused things to come to a meaningful end,
Despite no seeming reason..
Was you.






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