Memory Lane


I drove through the memories, past forgotten

relics reminding me that once I lived here.

Hear me, they whisper in the audible melody

of the familiar whistle wind  of her hair waving,  

glittering gold in the undercurrent of her giggles.

The familiar signposts flash past my eyes

as her face flushes with a rosy pink color

like the pink pulse of desire that once pumped

but now only hazy recollections remain,

but still so familiar I can navigate the street blind

as if only sunlight shelters us from the truth.

But even if she birthed within me reality,

the past is past and better left preserved.

Even though my house still stands stalwart,

another now abides in its beautiful confines

so I drive past, tears unshed and remember

a time when we would play hide and seek

in the dark with our hearts, still tender.


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