Memories

By Fatima Mackizadeh

Not a moment alone,

when I am fragile they flash,

like diamonds raining on Saturn,

alluring me to evoke my history.

Book of memoirs opening to a random leaf,

no pattern or trajectory.

When I try to tear one off, it magically re-sprouts

irrevocable and rosy chapters,

hurt and pain reserved for the lows.

You can try & forget my friend, but we are lassoed.

Wish I could torch it, 451 degrees,

first and only edition lost,

and I never ever feel the need, to reread.

By Fatima Mackizadeh