I find myself asking why we have not spoken,
in such a long time.
Perhaps it is my daily dose of escapism,
my addiction to the dreamscape vistas,
of stories and motions that drown out the noise?
When my mind is never left to grind away, on its own,
absorbed completely by the escape.
How is it that the world sometimes fails so completely,
to mesmerise me?
Why is it that when I look at it,
the colours are gone?
Questions, as familiar as they are frustrating.
Yet, something never ceases to amaze me ~
The colours reconstituted by words…
but always heard.
Whenever I close my eyes and introspect,
I sense your presence,
as I have since I was a child.
This door I seem to have locked,
will it open, I wonder,
if I spoke more with you?