Memory: is it the torn, faded jeans

Each rip telling a story & that splotch of paint

You were angry then, but can't help but smile now

Is it the way the edges of the picture fade to

White mist in you mind

Fuzzy around the edges

Is it the way a single word can bring a secret smile to your lips

And the details seem the clearest

Is it the way I see your reflection

As we stand still

And time fades a w a y