Memories
    by Yours truly, Melissa Itzkowitz

I watch you blow off dust.
You handle the old pictures with such care,
Like if you tear a corner or rub off some ink,
The memory will be gone.
But nobody would ever know.

I don't remember.
Not one person.
I've seen some of them before,
But I don't remember who they are.
How could I?
I've seen them once before though.

You remove another photograph from your box,
Hidden away in your attic.
I remember you, or at least I think I do.
I've seen you before, I know I have.
You were there, in my dream.
You, from the picture, were in my dream.

I begin to remember.
I begin to remember it all.
You're all my memories.
I am you.
I am your future.