I am what I remember, hiding in my
rolled up dress. Blinking how
forever joins us
together all.
I don’t wanna get over you.
A poor wreck
out of water.
I ocean the memory,
spools of the stuff
the broken brook
coils around and out.
I shout to return
on the bank
but this drowns
out the rest of it.
Passing very close to someone dear.
This memory of late:
How things are, how they
were, how they never
really were,
really.
