The books I’ve read

.

I cannot remember the books I’ve read,

Dialogues and details have left my head

Only blurry, in the end, they remain

Never to be truly recalled again;

Neither can I the things I have eaten,

Only remnants of some beloved tastes,

Eaten with my heart, oh so pure and chaste,

Which my palate had for long forgotten.

I can’t remember the things I have said

So many lines spoken in this long play

Where I’m the main actor since my first day

Living my role ’til I’m finally dead.

I cannot remember the moments I’ve lived

Only fleeting images, sounds and smells

Of love and tears, and feeling my heart swell,

Even so, they have made me. I have thrived.

.

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