Paper Cranes

there are those who choose to remember

the feel of guitar strings on softened nails

numbed by the sweet plucking of both new

and familiar notes, waiting to discover,

perhaps a new song without losing touch

we dig in frantic search of old letters

of lost taste, and adolescent cologne scents

that have once lost in a bus ride

only to have come back after a long trip

notes written on favorite paperbacks

whose spines have arched lovingly

split by page partitions of overly read chapters

an invite to shortened immortality

paper cranes take flight once more

after a long yellowing silence of bookmarking years

the unfolding of feelings passed, the secret smiles

the perpetual conspiracy of innocent love signals

but remembering is such a human thing

a grasp that we fashion to fill in a particular present void

those who knows shapes, know change too well

to realize that not everything fits

and so we, as humans, forget.

for we can only take so much paper cuts

of memories to remember that blood

has a certain metallic taste and is more viscous than tears.

April 12, 2009

2.25 PM