A Memory in My Pocket

Prose Poem

A Memory In My Pocket
[Image by TanteTati from Pixabay]

I found a memory folded in a paper. I read it and it hit me.

The memory was not meant to meet me. It was draped with words that were very loud. Terse and cold.

It said ‘I am leaving you…forever’ with the initials Rosie.K.

I wondered how the person for whom this memory was meant dealt with it.

Naively, I searched around for Rosie.K, but the wind made my eyes wet instead.

I read and re-read the memory as if it would reveal some more of it through magical words.

Why do memories always make us halt, lying to us that we can play with time, even reverse it?

I folded the memory again and kept it in my jacket’s pocket.

It tickles me whenever it feels like making me unfold it.

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