memory-bytes

the palm of my hand
on the cold window pane
memories like fireflies
rushing through my reflection
in the light of the moon

one by one
they come back to me

fragments

a bitter sweet taste
the scent of ripe berries
the softness of a touch
a lingering song
of sunshine on a rainy day

one by one
they leave me

shards

dripping red blood
tearing open old wounds
cutting fresh scars

leaving behind
a cold vapour
forever ghosts
my breath
in the light of the moon


© Sybille Sterk
Do not copy or publish this poem in any way shape or form without my written permission.

memory-bytes

Sybille Sterk

Joined July 2009

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Artist's Description


MCN: CSGE6-WHN3M-WY5FH

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