Alexa Laing-Moore
old love past
old love past
wishing for amnesia
if I could forget the sound of your smiles
and the oceans reflected in your eyes;
if I could smudge the prints of your fingers
left behind, imprints upon the deepest layers
of my flesh. were it that simple…
but your voice reverberates, echoing constantly
in the confined cavern atop my shoulders
like a song heard in sleep: intruding upon
my dreams as a shaky soundtrack.
the words we said, the jokes we shared,
the universal questions we dared to voice
replay in infinite loops; a skipping needle
that can only play the first five seconds
of the seventh track. if I could evict
you from the upper levels of my heart,
an empty room would be better than the fear
that lies like a welcome mat before the threshold.