Tuesday 26 April 2016

Memories in Dreams

Memories in Dreams

I am dreaming.

Down the empty, echoing corridor,
Step by ringing step,
Heels click and soles tap,
Door after door.

I stop at the first door.

Inside I can hear memories, my memories
I don’t want to know,
I don’t want to remember.
The memories tap at the door.
I hold the door shut.
I can hear the urgent whispers.
I turn the lock in the door.
I think hard about a picture of sunflowers to blot the memory out
And stumble to the next door.

I stop at the second door.

I can hear the memories, more memories.
A snatch of music and a tap, tap, tap.
I see fingers against frosted glass and I hold the door shut.
I don’t want to hear the music.
I don’t want to remember.
The door is tugged.
I hold harder against the music.
I turn the lock in the door.
I think hard about the sound water over pebbles to blot the memory out
And stagger to the next door.

I stop at the third door.

I can hear memories, many memories.
A scent of flowers and old books drifts past.
I feel the door tremble as I struggle to hold the door.
I don’t want to smell this.
I don’t want to remember.
The door shakes.
I see the handle turn as I lock the door.
I think hard about the feel of clean sheets to blot the memory out.
I slide down and crawl to the next door.

I stop at the fourth door.

I am too late.
Memories spill out.

Your smile in sunlight.

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