Victor

There is a building that I loved that is now completely gone. I was inside another, recently, that reminded me so fondly of the first, I had to write about the comparison.

Your pixellated gridwork
and my thoughts bring upon you
the modern age.
Cracked and cracking paint,
patches of snow on ice.

Windowsills of paper-thin steel
caressing paper-thin glass
and the creak of paper-thin walls
soaking in through the paper-thin membrane
of memories.

So fond I am of the way your stars
light my sky.
So graceful is the dust that leaves my fingers,
disintigrating into the air
as I breathe your musty scent.

In synchronicity, nothing
is in symmetry.
Will my time with you overtake
that of my beloved?

So much the same, with your
smooth lines, hard walls,
weak crinkles and imperfections.
You are still here,
you have not disappeared.

The twin full of life, with a drive to survive,
but do not overtake my memories.
I can not lose my love for
the walls I knew so well
in lieu of an old-and-new familiarity
that is not the same,
never the same.

Only the stronger twin,
the one who stayed alive.