Neal

I’ve been blowing kisses to the years that passed us by.

the morning blushed as i sat remembering you.

Do you understand
what I mean
when I say
that most people
never live
their lives?

I catch my reflection in the window
as daffodils scream under the weight of the sun
and I notice
that I am old
and the light I used to see
glimmering there
in the moist well of my eyes
is absent
 
and I realize
that I have finally grown
dull
 
whatever it was
I used to see
hiding there
behind my eyes
I know
it
has left me

It happens:
A mutual friend
will say your name
 
and all at once
the memories
bloom
 
and I am overtaken
by visions
 
of jaguars
and funerals
and teeth
being pulled