tough task: getting rid
of old memories.
After years, you
might manage fitting some
into boxes
and folding closed the lids—
or turning the keys
which lock them in—
or closing your eyes and
spinning the knobs which
scramble up their combinations;
but the sensation you get
is so confoundingly
mixed—
like sitting in the silence
between Act I
from the next,
or the sensation
of dreaming about
what you'll eat for dinner
when you haven't yet
swallowed the last
bit of your lunch—
that you cannot ever bring yourself
to truly
get rid of them.
The best you can do
is place them
on the highest shelf in the closet
with some other old stuff
which is broken, soiled,
or all used up,
but which somehow, you still
sense is too precious
to ditch.
