The Seas of the Forgotten

There are times when there is nothing to say. The world goes on around us, but neither of us remark upon any of it. Time passes unacknowledged and we do not turn – as we used to do – towards each other to mark a moment taken out of the river of minutes that flow past us into the seas of the forgotten.

There were times when we would go together down to the river bank of time, taking handfuls of the sparkling moments to pour over each other. Then we’d go wading out to swim in the minutes that flowed past us. All washing away everything we regretted or wanted to forget until we could step out together onto the riverbank. Both just watching the minutes flow by as they became hours then days while we lay wrapped around each other as though nothing could ever part us.

These days, though, we both go down to that river alone. Each making sure the other is off somewhere else before we go to stand on the bank, watching the flood-swollen river tumble past, biting chunks out of the banks as it thunders past. Its minutes turned to hours in front of us. We stand watching the remains of our time slipping away. We both know that one day all too soon that river will wash us both away, each still alone as the river drags us both, helpless and lost, down to that sea where everything is forgotten.