My memory imitates an empty riverbed, sculpted by moments that once flowed freely, viscous, raging at times, spawned by innocence at once, spurned by the reality of an ever ripening age. random way points. nomadic flecks of dust, momentarily illuminating in the sporadic rays from a setting sun, weaving their infinite lengths through the web of limbs, dancing at lapping intersections, smiles. points on a chaotic timeline, brief moments of life embedded in the mental tombs of the past. resolve to remember the now intangible moments before time takes its toll, cracking the raw earth beneath that once sheltered childhood, relegating the fire of youth to its inevitable place in history.

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