So much is over…
Who swallowed those capsules of time?
And if it’s over and gone
Why does memory live…?
…like a persistent ache
…like a question left unanswered…

Is my change true and final?
If I wasn’t that
Then am I certain I’m this?
Memory is seductive
It beckons me to return
A smoke that suggests a hidden flame…

I stand somewhere in between
What was and what seems to be
Baffled that neither is my ground
I’m wondering then…
What is my truth?
And what skin will cling to me

When this moment too, is over.

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