Black and white, lining up along the curvature of my brain,
Photographs in grey and blue fluttering between breaths-
Opening up the door to recollection, just to peek at one present,
Nostalgia settling on my tongue… he tastes like vanilla and rain and skin.
Settling on my hands and between our fingers- warm like shared baths,
Settling over my eyes, life in a gentle sepia hue like dusky sun.
Memories fall like dominos all across my mind, a canon of collapse from the temporal lobe to the cerebellum
Toppling like Atlantis, memoirs broken in the chaos sink into the ocean- as they pour into my optic nerve,
Wave after wave stopping me from closing the door again, everything smells blue and it’s filling up my eyes,
Childhood summers drip down my cheeks.
Salty sweet and incomplete they drown me for a minute.
But nothing lasts forever, every river has a source,
Then finally the cascade stops when I manage to slam the door,
But the trickle never ends
Seeping silently between gyri, leaking onto nerves – dripping like a kitchen tap
Rotting the woodwork quietly.
Drip, drip, drop
I line them back up again- black and white like piano keys,
Old tapes siting on my brain,
Just waiting to be played for me.