And If Memory Bends...
A Poem Exploring the Past as a Wave, the Self as a Ghost
1.
Memory is not a ledger.
It does not hold to a single truth,
does not sit still long enough
to be called fact.1
Every time you reach for it,
it scatters.
What was there—
what should have been there—
folds in on itself.2
The past isn’t behind you.
It’s fluid,
slipping through time,
reshaping itself
as you try to look at it.3
What happened
is only as real
as the v…
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