April’s Fool

April’s fool: here I am, here you’ve found me, 
where I’ve always been, never forgetting,

I don’t know about waiting, or missing,
or about time passing: that’s what time does,

right? But time won’t heal, they just say it will,
and there you go—twenty-five years, you say?

Have I counted the days, the months, the years?
Have you? Haven’t we just let life go on,

welcomed false certainties, buried our heads,
sought surrogates, conformed to others’ views?

Here I am, your April’s fool, forever
swimming in that blue sea not meant for me.