i remember when
i remember, memory of memory
am i a memory?
if each instant
burns some energy
the mark must leave
a scar, on reality.
if i cease to absorb the sun
now, now i see the paths
of memory.
like leaving and turning off each and every light,
like remembering the way you were,
like the confession of a truth,
like the sky before it darks;
i hear the sound of time
because its made
the tree does fall in the forest
everything hears it.
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