And you have become my muse

I pick them out carefully
Testing each corner
I feel the pieces
I examine the colour
I smoothen the rough edges
I weigh it to precision.


I arrange them one by one
Under the soft-lit lamp by my bed
The stars stare down
The moon shines up
Without mockery, in their utter stillness
They watch me line up your memory

* Memories can be deceitful
   For we choose, only those we want to remember


Blocks of loneliness
Circles of confusion
Squares of uncertainty
They are shown a way out
I'd rather assemble the mismatched pieces
and paint it all white

For some are worth remembering
And you have become my muse