Remember the moth-dusted pages,
how did the story begin again…
My mind-built castles, faded apparitions
disguised and surprisingly resistant.
Past becomes a rudder that way.
Do you remember?
We ate the apple, and then,
well, the rest is history
Did I tell you the story about
the blue-kneed girl with a
zipped-up button mouth
fists didn’t beat her down but
she learned to keep her mouth shut nonetheless
and she died trying to figure it out
she choked on anonymity
lost in a selfless haze
my memory mask,
a little heavy around the eyes
I absent-mindedly caress
a shield that protects me from knowing too much
