They say there is no thing
That time and space
Won’t resolve or absorb
And leave no stain or memory

That thing loved
Or hated, flinched at or stumbled over-
The thing that we have feared to lose or love
becomes inaudible in white noise,
unremarkable forever.

And all the people, pets and bones
Will slip with silence into soil
Like moist autumn leaves
Accepted effortlessly by the earth.

They say there is a time
When everything will be okay
When no pain or tears
or doubt or rage
or sorrow can remain.

It’s hard for to think about it
Without patterns or perspective
It seems that only faith or drugs
Could make that season so.

And now the night thickly drips
And I wait for it to fade away
Into the dull hypnotic trance
Of just another day.

For night in insurrection
Gives voice to my desires
And memory to all these things
Lost but not destroyed.

And that makes me think of you
But they say that time and space
Will take this all away
Without stain.

by Edward Marcelle