Left Tea Leaves

Imagination mixed with memory is this toxic tonic to stir up all our soured moments

fingering through photos

and soon I forget what came first, the memory or the sentimentality

dog-eared pictures proving I was here and I am there

simultaneously

both in and out of our universe

between the love and the hate of not being loved.

You get that? I don’t.

Insanity is repeating the same mistakes,

but here we go

rolling down hill like Jack and Jill

after reading their own nursery rhyme;

“Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water.”

“Oooh, I like the sound of this,” Jill said, tucking her crown into the crook of Jack’s arm as

he read.

And I can’t let you go, though, you let me go years ago.

Your memory is stronger than me.

Still, imagination is brilliant; I know, cause I make it.

A nightcap of sentimentality;

a tea made with the leaves of the leavings you left

to seep as rain water through the fall leaves

through the gutters of my mind.

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2 thoughts on “Left Tea Leaves

  1. bellesogni

    “…a tea made with the leaves of the leavings you left
    to seep as rain water through the fall leaves
    through the gutters of my mind.”

    So bittersweet!

    Reply

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