Mind and memory,
can I forget myself
in the smoke, a thought bends
like light through a prism,
no matter what way it turns
it’s always different, my memory
filtering through, grasping to
keep my self separate from
my dreams. Lost.
Writer in San Francisco, CA
Mind and memory,
can I forget myself
in the smoke, a thought bends
like light through a prism,
no matter what way it turns
it’s always different, my memory
filtering through, grasping to
keep my self separate from
my dreams. Lost.