I have a cellar of rare memories.
\nThey belong to me like the sea belongs to me.
\nLike the bite of cold or fire.
\nThey are stones and feathers.
\nSome too heavy to lift.
\nSome too light to ever keep
\nif they get away.
\nIt is an alternate self,
\nand the only self that lived inside earth
\nrather than on it.
\nIt involves years,
\nand no time that has a place.<\/p>\n
Like wine, they taste of semblances,
\na pitch of dirt, odor, illuminations.
\nAmbiences of inconsolable love,
\nstrange storms that broke windows,
\nwords that mixed tears and anger
\nin my mouth.
\nThe anesthesia of a surgery,
\nand blends of dream and space
\nnever to be rent by the light of day.<\/p>\n
As I\u2019ve grown older
\nI have discovered a strange youth.
\nAn exaltation of seeing,
\nof becoming.
\nTo know and not be afraid.
\nTo find a place for things to belong to,
\nloved in the past,
\nand loved now with understanding
\nand gratitude.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I have a cellar of rare memories. They belong to me like the sea belongs to me. Like the bite of cold or fire. They…<\/p>\n