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