I wish I had photographs
in place of these memories
snapshots that stay fixed
and contained
within their frames
and don’t play tricks
in an ongoing aim
to dissolve my resolve
to keep still

Impermeable to wishes
behind a glossy sheen
they won’t layer onto thoughts
nor dance through my dreams
appearing to block or sway them
from their wishful stream

I could store them away
’till they discolour and fade
or tear them to pieces
and throw them away
Instead I have odours
that twist me in knots
flashes that blind me
when I turn from that spot
where your voice echoes
those questions unasked
mocking answers
masked in gestures
to trick my hands
into reaching out
and grasping at ghosts


your thoughts?

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