Today starts

like any other

Ends like another.

We start as strangers

Yet familiar in our routines

and then you leave on the strokes of midnight

Like a memory

a fragment

of this sand

in my timer.

Etching lines

upon my skin

like silent chiselers

upon an unfinished work of art

for the unknown tomorrows

to look upon the yesterdays

to come.

 

27/4/2004