the waves of memory

rush, recede

(the same ocean as

sorrow)

they slip around the corners,

sear your heart, but you

clutch them tightly in your

cupped hands.

you peer through the

fading glass pane at the

fraying cloth of

yesterday

(maybe they won’t hurt

anymore.)

just out of reach

(don’t run)

but in the end, they’re only

shadows

faintly riding the edge of

night.

A/N – This’ll be a collection of sorts.  So watch for updates, if you’re so inclined.