you unlocked yourself so easily. there was no warning you would come through so quickly, no knock to indicate your doors would burst open. you did not creep up even. you were just there.
as i stood on a staircase so full of you, i found myself in your shadows. you took me to places that made me stare into the past. relive giggles and laughs. awkward silences while i wondered what others were thinking. less awkward when i shared my thoughts. background noises so irrelevant even as they called my name back into the room.
just by standing in the same place, you forced me back down your path. one stair opened the door to a museum of thoughts. stood in a place you were. scents. sentences. sentiments. that you brought to mind.
then with a blink, realized it was time to let you go.
and like the silence of the alchemist; more obvious than the zahir; more painful than maria’s journey from brazil to switzerland; i did. released you into that space. abandoned you on that step.
your future tense more interesting than your past.
you’re no longer my memory to keep.
February 1, 2011 at 1:17 pm |
The past is a foreign country, they do things differently there. LP Hartley.