words by dominic riccitello

a thousand and one
i sit along
your gated fence
holding my hand
wondering where you went
how things could transcend
without a tone
words
a sentence
we take simple
for granted
little things
with fading light
and when it changes to night
we become lost
twirling for nonsense
becoming who we lost
loving ourselves
with every cost
and obsessing
over a love
lost