Living In Memory

When I have nowhere else to go,

I find refuge in the space between the words we have spoken.

I nuzzle into sweet nothings which left our lips when liquor let them.

I burrow into the blurs in my memory,

thinking how good it must have felt when you helped me disconnect the dots.

There are no distinct differences, no boundaries barricading--

The feelings fall into each other.

The same place I find my mother

when she let me lay my heavy head on her lap

when I could bear it not much longer,

Is where you are – arms apart,

Opening up in places I could not see,

So you could hold the heavy parts for me.

Priya Lasrado