Souls and memories can do strange things during trance.
Some memories are presents that I’m unable to unwrap over and over.
Remember me, even if it’s only in a corner and secretly. Don’t let me go.
Memory Lane always seems to be under reconstruction.
The memories we’re fondest of are not always our own
Memory is the sense of loss, and loss pulls us after it.
Sharing tales of those we’ve lost is how we keep from really losing them.
It’s a funny thing about names, how they become a part of someone.
When the remembering was done, the forgetting could begin.