When lockdown ends
The flowers that have grown on my bedcover
Will crawl back into their still shapes
The grey floor that has stretched into miles
Will squeeze back into the 10×10 room
The hours that have become endless
Will trap themselves inside the watch
When lockdown ends
I’ll come out of a Dali painting
And I’ll ask (perhaps in vain)
Am I still the same?
My mind tends to forget the worst
She keeps me away from my own ghosts
When lockdown ends
Will it make sense, if I find
That in the corners of my mind
Greyish blue patches of memory have disappeared
Forgetfulness spreading like fungus on old bread
Where did the time go?
Where did I?
Where am I?
I might go round in circles
When the lockdown ends
Will I be able to make amends
To those who I might have lost
Might have crossed
Out from my life
When I perhaps dissolved in my endless room
It is the season of doom, after all.
When lockdown ends
I wish for remembrance.
mimimusing 