our memories are wrapped

our memories are wrapped
in cushions of untruths. when
you say i recall, how much is it
a re-calling, a re-placement of
the conditions – the sounds,
the tastes, even that puncturing
aroma of sweet and savory,
the one that beckons bite me


  1. Kim

    My mom used to tell me I accidentally drank a small bottle of perfume when I was a kid…and got sent to the hospital to get “pumped” for that. For some reason I could never recall such a thing. After she told that story several times, though, I was beginning to “remember” it…like it actually happened.

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