The Inkwell: My Memory
By Royal S.
Memory
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Static wind and vibrant colors
a blurry image.
The fleeting sounds
of familiar voices
as they swirl and whisper.
My memory is made up of water.
Void to those of which I share blood,
but filled with the warm embrace of a stranger,
a smile from the woman on 1st street.
My memories are decorated by the stickers
gifted to me by the little girl who said I looked like her mother
and the forever bracelets holding my family close.
My memory is built from the blurred images of those around me
and in the quietest moments,
the cracks in the sidewalk,
grow the parts of me reflecting a stranger's smile.