that which dresses up as memory
are the faints of familiar,
escorting it into view,
formalized as if now face-to-face,
wearing an environmental wardrobe
from a closet of one's familiars.
this presents in tones of shared commonplace.
it is present without introductions offered.
the storyline isn't initially stated
but instead continues as if always thereafter.
memory hands me a script
as if I know my lines and place.
we carry on in a momentum
as if I am totally aware.
something lucid is trying to tell me,
in a language that we can not speak,
as if by second thoughts.
I now become totally aware
that there is a point to this,
for it to becoming a moment in passing.
and it wasn't nostalgia
presenting as a latent after-burp.
no, there is something keynote in passing.
something, in the soft narrative presenting,
is for me to further gather in.
am I to key on a fixture, a phrase, or a conclusion?
from that which was taken to be
but now offers a very different point of view?
memory now has a different backdrop,
as less the camouflage of then in passing.
and now more the poignancy of perspective,
taken from a different point in time.
maybe even an added sense of preferential,
as an implied meaning,
that now surfaces,
as an import of motive,
that was never seen before.
memory, without the sheen of passage flashing by,
but in this now,
the hands of focus can readily handle.
stop-frame happens.
new thoughts are provoked.
the script, as memory presents, is halted,
and inserts are now added.
my character of then,
as the reenactment, is somewhat altered
at least as for now.
and the looking back,
that is taking place,
of what I was made of, for then,
is now not what I am taking forward.
a kind of patchwork has been done.
my embodiment of now is re-centered.
I am composition-added,
a broader spectrum awaits my presence,
a memory gets to live in the lift of now.
as for faint as it was,
the real of it carries on.
and I am a wardrobe lighter for its presence . . .
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