The past that has been forgotten

Dim lights mark the
gray-red bricks,
glazed by moonfrost
before the light's
incandescent touch
and so incomplete as
time marches by.
It
passes through me
towards your answer
angled back upon
the Carousels
Ferris wheels and
Funnel cakes, then
quick-step, Italian
four course, late
night jamming and
soul searching we
once shared on that
spectral path
obscured by the visions
the wishing and
now it has all been
taken, faint and distant
to dance with the flames
burning the letters that
now mean less than
used napkins, less useful
than those black
gum wrappers. I hope I can
forget again, so much
easier when I had not
tried to forget, when
those words of worlds
were still on my tongue
and slowly dripped,
lay in the sands
and were left to die in
another woman's
darkness, so peerless,
wanting, screaming.