there is a dream… at the fringes of my mind
they hover like a butterfly, a wisp before they disappear, leaving behind the sweet taste, the memory that haunts you and makes you want to remember those times that were.
barely there but there… those memories which haunt  you
i breathe and the memory returns… but there are no shapes, no images to know what you talk about.
i wonder.
i wait.
i wonder if it would be fair to end it all now. banish the memories  before they crawl in deep.
i dig
i realise there you are – already as deep as it could go.
the butterflies are only the beautiful tendrils that curl around me…
are they a trap? are they a prison? are they only a memory?
the questions remain.