The Persistence of Memory

Dalí’s clocks came to mind,
As I studied you from the side.
The way your head tilted back,
Pouring down your spine.

On my knees, shivering
Staring at my phone,
Pulling up blades of grass,
One by one by one.

The silence, deafening,
Now drenched in blood,
No one was going to call,
No one was going to come.

Could you taste it, the smell:
Charred rubber and gas?
Could you feel it, the injustice…

I was holding my breath, while you were taking your last.

The Persistance of Memory – Salvador Dalí 

I know, nothing new, but such is how the memory works, it seems.

Time, however, offers a different approach, changing our perspective as it advances, and softening our hearts…if we let it.

And yes, the ghosts still linger, but they are more timely in their departure, melting into the shadows that slowly lose their somber…somewhere between the sun and the sea.

Playa Las Tunas, Todos Santos

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