A teardrop and the sheer weight of this thought.
This will be the last verse I write. This will be the last
fairytale I will tell you.
The persistence of memory is such. There is no other way.
A minor fall like that of a petal, drifting down to settle
on stone
A major jump into tales that I told you of a long, long time
ago.
You needed proof, and I showed you
The beauty of the forest, almost translucent in its depth.
All you said then was, “the persistence of memory is such.
There is no other way”.
And I? I simply followed.
I wonder what the forest holds beyond this path
Where you and I looked, smiled and walked on
Letting the silences between us talk all along,
Of nights and times and fathers and brothers and
grandmothers.
The persistence of their memories kept our tears at bay.
The world whistles along our melodies
The world of people you see, is abounding with energy.
In the forest, you and me? We’re just two little birds lost
in the woods.
Two little birds flitting past, a blur that disappears
Like that snowflake you held in your palm
Wishing it all away.
The persistence of memory is such. There is no other way.
Words, hands, leaves, snow peaks and silence
A silence where we shudder against the growl in the dead of
night
A silence where we looked for shooting stars, creating a
tiny puzzle.
Of you and me, fearful of the forest, mindful of our
distance and cautious. Oh, so cautious.
A speed bump too small to notice on the pathway
Becomes the speed bump too huge to cross over in bed.
So we play along, a mindless symphony to forget.
The persistence of memory is such. There is no other way.
He and me, you and her, them and us, we and ours
Becomes lost in transition from here to there, this place to
that time
Our story to their history, his tears to her smirk.
Yes, I reversed the gender roles. He cried, and she walked
away.
Let’s talk about feminism another time.
Did I say this was a fairytale?
Forgive me, will you?
The persistence of memory is such. There is no other way.
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