Why does a memory evoke a response? Why do I remember the warmest hand I ever held to when I see every image of a little girl and her gleeful ownership of a secure smile?
When love arrives or departs why do we, close within something that knows to voice itself?
How does memory defeat thought?
Is the past a whirlpool of endless drowning? Or perhaps it is in the drowning, every present moment survives in the glorified, grand swim across a fathomless, memory bound abyss!
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