where i go you cannot see or know,
because familiarity has lost its presence
or calm stature.
the letters of my name
have all come undone,
falling along with the tones of your
voice which lie broken on the floor
the pieces i do not recognize.
the meaning of colors are no longer fruitful.
the telling hours motion has stopped.
regardless has become my home.
the sanctuaries of my desire having
passed before me forgotten.
nathan martin
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/amnesia-10/
