Careful of a memory

  Memories. A film locked in time.
Softly the breath is released. The
eyes flash concerns over seconds
turning to months.

  How can I explain open thoughts
without blistering the ears, the ego of worldly
people? How does just saying, acknowledging
someone, something change the present
significantly? How, why does it matter
for a few seconds that passed is now thoughts
of old?

  A memory is something, no matter the
experience, I will always have inside. Similar to
an old black and white, classic film. So much
is different now. Still parts can relate and
educated what is current.

  My lips form an "O". Not in shock
but blissful amazement of how many times
I have been proven, counseled for my
stepping stones. The ironic laugh vibrates.

  Careful of what is said. A memory I
close eyes to recall is probably best left
lost. To know that all of today will be
20/20 hindsight to experience, to note and
file. Placing in a single cardboard
frame, recalling name every once in a while.

  Something, someone that triggers, hold
tightly within the locked doorway, knocking.
Asking me to open once again. Unveiled.

         Was it you?
              Was there curiousity in your eyes,mind?