And love and memory too

You can't be in love
with the past
because love can never lie
and the past
can't help it

Memory is a waterfall
cascading and majestic
missing the point always;
Clear and clean as it tumbles downward
pooling into dark water
you can never see through the bottom

The past is
a shadow
An outline of self
which was once
but now sways by breeze
of illumination
stretched and warped
by the source for which it exists
so very gray
compared to what it
mimics

And the two cannot come together again
not through tears
or quiet moments asking why
or the sickness, "what if?"

Water, once spilt over the edge
will never return

and love and memory too