Memories are Ghosts

Memories are the things you recall

Like paint dripping down

The crevasse of a wall

In the rush of covering

The old for

Something new

Air tempers the color

Settles the layers


I want you to remember me

Do I even remember you?

I swear I do

I wrote it all down

And shut the book

Kept it on the shelf

Once in a while I’d take a look

At the past

What’s passed?

Is passed

I’d start again

To know you


By d. morse

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