Memories

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I remember like baggage and it is visceral.  I carry it around me like loose change in a pocket, jangling.  It brings back taste, and sound and touch.

You remember, too, I am sure.  Like loose change in a handbag and every once in a while you come across a shiny silver coin and a joy fills your tiny heart.

You – the improbable, intractable ‘You’.  Every time I open my mouth to talk about You it demeans us both that little bit further.

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