Sticky, not in a good way

beware stirring the memory pot

for what is in there

may not always be what you think

dip in

if you must

but beware

it is sticky

& not always in a good way

those golden moments

put away for a good day

may

have become melded together

formed a half eaten mess

of gray

the faces of lovers

faded

& the pain that love made

thin strong steel is still there

as you struggle not to care

searching for morsels

from happier times

beware stirring the memory pot

it is sticky

& not always

In a good way

 

 

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