eyes half open,
semi-conscious.
a fractured mosaic
casts shadows on your room.
times forgotten,
buried inside
all the objects left behind.
a shaky whisper:
"is this a graveyard or a monument?"
it is a magic, multi-temporal room -
reconstructed pasts and imaginary futures.
where the most precious moments,
the most precious people,
might live forever.
we exist here,
in these things.
"or do they exist inside us?"
but like all dreams,
the more we try to grasp it, the sooner it fades.
