Gentile and forgotten

perhaps, our best option
is to speak in unfamiliar terms,
in the language of offices
and polite strangers bumping
into each other on the train.

perhaps, we have no place to turn
but inward and away
relegating ourselves to ourselves
and no longer of or for each other
and any dream we once had
we know now
mistaken

some closeness
was imagined and at times,
beguiling because it was.
we wanted to believe
as it happens with false things
that glimmer and seem to speak
to the most intimate and
wounded part.