The Care to Forget

Sorry...

What you see is not real—and what is true remains hidden still.
You think I am far away; yet I exist in the countless delicate layers of your feeling, wordless.

I live in moments you might think trivial.
Know this: what the world calls false is precious to me—because in the fleeting I seek the eternal.

No one has ever called to me the way you do—
so before you I am guilty, too much, too deep.

Perhaps there is less love in you, less passion...
Yet you are my different one, because love doesn't always demand utterance; some love simply exists, becoming radiance.

If you call to me again, even by mistake—
that call will be the full moon of my life's end;
I will become another me, and dwell within your soul,
like silent worship burning on.

: Do you know if I have any life left in me?
: Why do you say such things?
: That you have forgotten me—this very thought feels good;
because to forget someone, you must first have held them with great care.

: How can I forget you?
: What was there to remember?

Can it be called love—
a thought that doesn't even yield proper pain?

: You're crazy.
: I want so much to hear your voice...
Are you still the same as before?
I could call if I wanted,
but you know I can't do such things.

: Why are your eyes red?
: I was seeing you...

Again I feel
that I will see you somewhere someday.
In some city of memory, perhaps in a dead, wet November rain—
where there was no recognition, only incompleteness.

Yet let us meet there,
because not every moment needs completion;
your incompleteness taught me to love most deeply.

What I left behind on the path—does it ever return?
My heart doesn't want to say goodbye—
I know I am wrong.
This longing to remain in your chest
I will never be able to cut away.

Forgive me...

: Have you come?
: Yes, in my heart I still seek only you.
: Your mind feels strangely beautiful today,
I've never seen it like this before.

: You know, today I want
to tenderly find that missing "me" from you.
: Where will you go?
: I will have to go...
This very me once wasted so much of your time!
Now time itself has forgotten me.

: Do you want to come back again?
: No...
I'm just thinking.

Storm winds all around; I said, let go of my hand.

Alright.

You let go with just one word?
This is so you!
You love, but don't understand your beloved's hurt pride!

Did you ever want me to remain yours?

I still want that...

Be well every day.
Where I am not—not at all.

Yet one wish alone:
Be there not at my end, but at my beginning.
It feels good to believe—
that you returned to me.

I haven't said it today,
but still you know—I love you.