When memories impede the flight of your joy, it’s time to let it go. You can be right, or you can be light. You choose.
There may come a day when I’m the only one …
Writing letters with ink and pen addressed to those zapped in pixels, breathing analog memories into digital lips and lungs
Memorizing phone numbers and birth dates, knowing by heart
In a world that’s all absentminded, trusting devices to carry on their lives –
I may be, … behind …
Still, hoping for glazed eyes to sparkle with the joy of feeling one thing
at a time.
© 2017 All Rights Reserved. Asha Taylor.
I, knee deep, in daydreams
See, glossy crimson lips
Sticky, red candies
Already, licked; not yet eaten.
A, little post-it note attached reads:
“Save some for later.”
Laughter, tickles the underside of my belly
Giddy, muses over
Memory, playfully tussles under slats of dawn
And, the vanishing night’s shadows.
Salty, marine scents
Dampen, cloth-turned-to-ringlets between …
Hairy, and smooth.
Laying, opposites beside
Perfection, in being
Don’t rely too heavily on memory: it tells us more about the truth of us than the truth of recalled affairs.