Refraction of Memory

 

"Refraction of Memory"

I see it at the edges of my eyes sometimes, a ghostly shade floating gently from space to space, Perhaps it's an echo of an existence, And every time I look its way it dissipates into the reality it was surrounded by, just substantial enough like a silky mist dissolving into the air fading into the fabric of the invisible Questioning if it was ever really there, Does it see me? Is it sentient? Or somehow just a memory? My quick glimpses of this apparition happen when my mind seems to wander into remembrance and my eyes gloss over and fade out of focus, then somewhere it begins to manifest within the stillness of the room I'm in, A shade coming to form with elegant sways of movement right at the edge of perception full of some kind of feeling or echo of recollection. It moves just like you, feels just like you, but it can't be you. Then I catch a glimpse of another shape, moving in harmony with you, it fees like me, moves like me. But it can't be me. Then I realize as the swell of possibilities builds behind my eyes and the pain finally drips its absolution down my cheeks and through the contours of my humanity; it's an echo of us, A refraction of memory, Of what could have been us.

-Armando Torres