Handprint on a wave
She knew how memory worked.
Last time she had seen him
he had been perfected
Ly etched in her mind;
She didn’t want to replace that
with anything less
Than what she had known.
She knew how memory worked—
How memory faded
Dried out
and contorted images
If she saw him again
It was inevitable:
He would be something less
Than perfect.
poem by S./j. Goldner
Added by Poetry Lover
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