They overlapped and joined. You couldn’t tell exactly where one started and where another ended except of course, at the very beginning, that first bit of light shown through the material. After that it’s a dizzying amount. Some muddled and faded, old and discarded. Others clear and vibrant, new and cherished.
Others are dark and stormy, none wanting to truly know.
Still others are bright and open, open for sharing, none truly affected.
The lines that crisscross and swiftly jump away, the pull all together, stitch them close. Impossible to forget truly.
These are my memories, the essence, at least.
love this.
ReplyDeleteLast line. Good stuff.
ReplyDeleteWow, you nailed it!
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