paralyzed by the essentially

epic quality of memory there’s

no qualitative difference between

experiencing the past and present

time has no power of transformation

another intensifies nor diminishes

the meaning of anything I’m afraid

to speak as myself open up to

the people around me because of

some instinct that goes back to early

childhood when I was afraid of being

seen naked or heard singing at the

piano or to share the stories I wrote

or to even share what I was reading

Photo by Rene Bernal on Unsplash