The body moves through time and space at the continuous decaying rate of travel.
The back of my hand wrinkling,
Leather,
Weakening.
Limitations of the physical world is the medium the human body occupies,
Though, we try to defy them.
I long to remember all the forgotten parts of life,
Small details:
Smells as a child,
Smiles of people I can no longer recall their faces.
Tiny moments
Like cookie crumbs,
Brushed off countertops.
Memory is a fading timeline, like a ruler, that’s used to measure and tell who we were, and who we are.