walking my mind to an easy time

another year and a different ailment, and again at this, the season for me to claim as my own the closing windows and coats, the loss of brightly colored nails and beachy hair. the iniquities of this life don't stop. but i press forward against the wind at my face.

it surprises me to have forgotten to remember squinting at those christmas tree lights and watching them twinkle falsely and curling up under my red blanket, alone and alone.
it surprises me to have forgotten to think about you, even after seven years have gone by.

the memory bank is fuller, now, richer and warmer without those cold evenings that ended, collectively, in heartbreak. or, as my son cries gleefully over his maze books, "DEAD END!!"

(but then, i didn't forget after all, did i?)

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