literature

Deja Vu

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Beyond-the-Pages's avatar
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Literature Text

Now I see you,
and now I don't.
You're like the dust motes
swirling in the air
around my open window.
The sun shines through,
making the dust fly
like miniscule birds,
and I try to catch them,
thinking to make pets of them.

But,
just like you,
they elude me,
until I realize how silly I am,
and fall on my bed,
breathless with laughter.

I hear you on the radio,
and I see you in the car.
You're always right where
I need you to be: never
far away, but always
just out of reach
of my fingertips.

When I close my eyes,
I hear your voice
singing songs in my head,
like some long-forgotten
melody
that I heard
ten years ago.

I hear songs
playing on some distant
radio,
and I think to myself,
"I've heard that song before,
once, long ago,
in my dreams."
You sang it to me,
and you sang it with me.

What song is it?

I don't know it's name,
but I know how I feel
when you sing it to me,
with your breath lightly brushing
my cheek, tickling my ear.

Teasing me,
you sing nonsense,
and I sing it right back.

This is a kind of friendship
that cannot be bought,
and cannot be found.

It can only be.
Partially inspired by something :iconmindofmyown: said in one of her journals. Also partially inspired by a line in a book I read for school, called "The Stone Angel", by Margaret Lawrence. It was the only thing in that book worth reading: "I am rampant with memory".

Though I don't know how, this does feel like it speaks about me. I just don't know in what way it does...

Edit: I changed the "Phantom of the Opera" bit. It didn't feel like it fit.

Comment, please! If you like it, send me a :+fav:! :D

~Bey:boing:nd-the-Pages~
© 2008 - 2024 Beyond-the-Pages
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DreamsOfNostalgia's avatar
i enjoyed reading this :heart: