December again
the dreaded day has gone and passed
and the world spins
ants shuffle
commute to their jobs
in their ordinary lives.

December again
time is just a concept.
Five years since I’ve seen your face
your long, brown hair
cascading down your back
like a waterfall upon your skin.

December again,
I don’t feel a thing.
The cold has frozen memory
my fingers, your fingers
clutched together
in our childhood innocence.

December again – again – again
days, seconds, years, months
a constant rotation of digits
erasing our ties
stealing you away
in the tides of time.

December,
why do you always come back again?