I don’t want to fall for a photo
Make love to a pixelated memory
See things for what they are
Reminisce about how things were
How I see you now
How I saw you then
Not as I imagine (when)
In the moment I pretend
A point of clarity to be sure
The shape of my heart shifts
Sifted much the same as sand
No firm foundations
Nothing we could feel or see
Just recollections
Heartbeats that we grieve
Deciding whom we should deceive
When not to lie, when not to breathe
For death is still a constant
As breath is overrated
We seek approval from the sun
Curse the moon, unsatiated
When to say enough’s enough
The loves we lose, the loss we choose
The cards we hide, and hands we show
Yet, it’s not just the loss, it’s the love
Without a place to go

You quoted Tolstoy in your poem
Could have done without it
Adding nothing to the quotient
What was said or what you meant
A heartbreak stanza, nothing more
Talking about yourself, not us
Still, your words hold resonance
Frequencies and circumstance
A modicum of chance reveals
What twisty smiles and winks conceal
One drink and you’re saying this
Two more and it’s this or that
Kisses flying off your tongue
Hips, lips, and panties flung
I fall too hard, it’s true, I fell
You say you did, but held your ground
A force of will, a wall of sound
A scent that fools how we accept
Intoxicates like honey wine
In time, it skews our memory
How I see you now
How I saw you then
Some lines to write
Of where and when
The same lines on refrain (again)
Missing in the sun’s detailing
What the rain finds (or found)
is simply an unveiling

You sent some music… Sour Times
Portishead, I’m sure
Said it was your favorite song
Nobody loves me like…like…like…
Now I see “Nobody” was somebody else
Not like me, more like him
Kurt or Jim, some short name
You spoke it in your sleep
And said I was the creep
For listening to you talk
Seriously, you fucking woke me up
Dead of night, darkened room
We drifted off so pleasantly
A slice of life (reality)
Emotions filled to overflow
But little did I know
I kind of thought you felt the same
Imagination fucks with me
Speaking conversationally
It doesn’t feel like poetry?
Excuse me, I’ll continue…
Muster point for talking points
I believed your body
Resonance of frequencies
The touch of inconsistencies
The taste of your goodnight
Reaching to turn off the light
Shifting sheets, white foundations
Feathered lies and consternations
Pillows full of syllables
Lines that we believe
True, I did forget to breathe
Caught up in the things I need
You know that breath is overrated
As love’s a word that’s overstated
And death is still a constant
Marker for a future moment
How I see you now
How I saw you then
Numbers, dates, and wedding vows
Letters, reasons, paper, pen

You left a card, a note of sorts
Veiled message; makeshift prayer
Ephesians 16:12, it was
No hope for us, no talk of love
Just wickedness in heavenly places
Traces of a wasted life
Husband, lover, mistress, wife
Keys to souls we trade for gold
Houses we pretend are homes
Secrets held inside our phones
Worlds of want, we walk alone
Things we hide or think we need
Choosing where or why to breathe
But breath is overrated, yes,
I thought I told you so…
And death is still a constant
Though we never truly know
How I see you now
Compared to how I saw you then
It’s not just the loss
It’s the love
Without a place to go
We are nothing in the end

TM DiSarro
©2025 TM DiSarro/ MindScapes Publishing
For an Instagram Prompt by Glass of Mead & LG

“Muster Point” -LG

“Try to catch a dream upon waking”  @wile_ex_mynakedself

“It’s not just the loss, it’s the love without a place to go” @dlwhite_author

“If we could rescue time” @seamusorourke

“What the rain finds is simply an unveiling” @midagedpoetry

“We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe” @andreagibson