Writer’s Block

i come to you like to an old friend lost
in some forgotten table of past lunches and teas
though for us it was late nights watching the sun
creep over the cold dead of the in-between days
the miracle peace between dead yesterday
and tomorrow pulling, demanding.
You, old friend, never change.
Forever patient, when you should be chiding
For I do not stay the same
Eons pass within me unspoken to you
You, keeper of all my former “me”s
staring, frozen dolls of memory
but still warm, needing just one breath to breathe
Only you know them.
I have forgotten.

But tomorrow calls
And I promise to tell you all —
new friends, new thoughts
new metaphors
someday
soon
You should know now not to wait
Eons will pass within until

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