Unwoven
“I’m sorry, but the Princess is in another castle.”
Sounds like just another Friday night to me.
I go on to the next one then, little dinosaur,
like a passerby in pursuit of the perfect life
promised by pictures on puzzle pieces
when memory fades.
Fully knowing that promise’s faulty premise,
I set off against monsters yet unmet,
who raided my memory,
and into the portentous lands they call home
having lost all hope for my own and its castles.
It’s a wordless sorrow that I must leave you, again,
in solitude,
but fret not, little dinosaur - there may be others,
who travel the braided path.
Your castle is not my home –
but Princess, before we were even a memory
our paths were interwoven
like the humble, clinging vines upon these walls
or the candlelit treestalk towers that flourish in the dark.
Before we become just a memory
Princess, please, don’t unravel the future
that we haven’t yet explored.
I know not where this journey ends,
but of the few things I know I know, surely
time only stops
when, so too, do I.
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