You came back with a blueprint,
looking for the old castle,
asking where the pillars went,
and who took the roof.
My dear,
the building did not just collapse;
I burned the wood,
I sold the stones,
and leased the empty land
to the city landfill.
There is no monument here.
Only a graveyard
of memories left to decay.
So don’t ask me how to rebuild,
because I have forgotten
the language of construction.
