Disingenuous discontinuity

My last few posts towards year end always tend to reflect on the year gone by; kind of like a taking stock of things done, the to-do list checked off and a retrospective meander through the mind. It doesn't take much to muster the courage to make these notes of course: data gladly presents itself, just as it did this weekend past. There's nothing like a friendly, family social event (such as a wedding) to stir one into a mix of familiar faces. A mocktail of sorts in which I found myself in Alice-like charm, drowned in some contentious, other bemusing fluid moments of a ping-pong game gone awry. My writing is almost as dizzy as I feel. There is one certainty I should make note of: the past, if left like a weeded plot untended, will crawl over your garden wall and make its way into the present. That's a given. Weeds. The kind that can kill roses, if you're not too careful. Okay so life is still fragrant, but I am left thinking, reflecting, with words like disingenuous swirling in the murky waters of my mind. And I'm wondering about life as some supposed sort of continuum, the dots and dashes I see instead, the adoption of a process of broken steps, the inheritance of the discontinuous. It's been a while since I free wrote a load of cryptic hogwash. It feels really good. I'm still upset by the findings that landed in my lap, though. But they won't alter my course.

one last dance

This last dance,
Is all it takes
for a mind to say good bye.

This last dance,
when the roses have long dried
and leaves once green
are ready for their bronzing.

Just one last dance,
so i can feel that memory
of your breath
on my skin,
and that signature whisper
that you almost didn't utter
forever branding me
as your silent love.

This last dance,
is all i need to
remember that it wasn't
just a dream,
and then to
forget eyes
that smiled once,
just for me.

This last dance, in appreciation,
because you showed me
that eternity
exists.

Yes, I'm savouring this one last dance,
because you always are
and never will be.

A last dance,
is all a heart needs
to finally let you go.