no one left to tell me there was laughter
 

time perplexes me
it was
it isn't
it is  memory
when the attic door opens
all i see is dust
gathering softly
rebuilding the layers i disturbed

finally facing the pain
i walked into places of the past
looking for memories of another
and saw you looking back

memories of you
ended with tears streaming hot
and salted into unhealed wounds
sabotaging tenuous links
but answering age old questions

when a memory fall in the woods
and there is no one there to share it
it makes no sound
 

30 May 2001
 

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