my stories to me
are all so simple
I’ve even lived most
and by most I mean
only parts
and which parts I become less
and less sure of over time
for as I’ve said before memory
is a fickle friend
telling me in vague whispers
what I want to hear
each and every time
allowing shades of meaning
to shift inside the same event
depending upon where I am
next
(April 2013)
subtext 