I speak

but there is no sound.

You cannot see me on the page.

We are lost as if we had never been here,

as if we never knew one another.

I see

but there is only blurred illusion

from that other place,

where the other life, so real,

exists and then is gone.

I was there.

I am here.

I rage

against the unfairness of this existence,

against the conscious knowledge

that I was here so quick

and then was gone.