Poem-"Memory"

[psycosynthesis]

I can't recall the colour
Of her eyes.
Even though I've been
Lost in them. (and still am)
Meandering in the
Viscocity of her gaze.
And I can't think
Of the last words
We shared. Even though, I'm sure they
Struck deep, resonant chords.
I'm sure that they
Vibrated, towards
Inconcievable depth,
Even if the meaning is
Now lost.
That is, if it,
Was apparent in the
First place.
But I'm not sure,
It's all been washed away
And degraded, deformed.
Like grains of silt in a
Chemical tide.

 

[(Wordy)]

I really like the simile at the end - it really sums up the vaguaries of memory. And doesn't love have the most selective memory of all?