madeleine

A trick of
the mind

Memory

Not what’s actually
happened

but what you believe
to be so

Yet it makes
up who you are
or at least
who you think
yourself to be

What has passed,
that which is no more

But lives
in your bones,
shapes your face

and makes you
feel whole

For who would
you be without
memory?

The elusive
unreliable
self-truth

The only record
you have to live
by

Like a taste
of something
you can’t quite
name

(D. James)

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