We watch the VCR switch reels and rotate.
it smudges memories, births,
the strangeness of dead times and dead people.
They recycle the laughter of the past and
I want to warn them that the love will not,
did not, last and the isolation is for always.
I want to wave the flag !
Run up the banner, charge !
It will not bring a future
It will not bring a future
But we've already confessed in eyes,
glued to the curtains that cover
only wall. only backboard and flaky white plaster.
I do not wave a flag. Do not charge.
I sit, I look, I am silent.
I can not take from those with nothing left.
From dust can no dust be taken, instead, we
hold hands and shell shallots and sing softly
and sweeten the silence that surrounds.