mary

i remember the days we used to spend sitting in cafes dreaming up beautiful pictures and the past. we drew people out of nothing, and places, and moments of colors swirling too fast to grab onto, or too fast to hold them tight and whisper songs of yesterday into their little bodies. breathe life little memories, dance to the beat of racing hearts. show me how you're not meant to die, how a memory can exist from the start.

grandma says wanna go see a movie? i'll treat you to lunch, i cut out some crossword puzzles for you, like fifty. really, a whole bunch. i say i adore you. let's play in the days of your stories, grandma, and stay there as long as we can. because i don't want to go in yet, grandma. i want you to hold them in the palm of your hand and blow them up so the whole world can see where you've been, and all the eyes you've looked into, and all the people on the outside looking in to see you staring back at them with your big eyes and sass.

tell me about your childhood, and faces that have come and gone, and times you'll never forget as long as eternity blows forever across the horizon flashing lights like a lovesong.

sing me tales of love and laughter as you peel away the memories that have been caked onto your skin like war-paint dried under the sun. let's go to the places that you've come from, there and back again until i see what you see, beauty that time has not yet undone.

ok, you'd say, alexandra. rosie cheeks, smiles and fun. always there for each other. you and i have seen the sun. of course you had it planned this way, all packaged up in one big moment, flying higher and higher into a sky that was turning red and orange, on fire.

you always have me, you'd say. don't worry, if everyone around you suddenly leaves, you will always have me, alexandra. always here to play with memories.