You never know which ones will stick,
survive by burrowing deep
into the brain’s unfathomable guck.
You never know which ones will reconstitute,
emerge unbidden, catapulted upfront
by the trigger smell, sight, move,
contiguous with their creation.
You never know which ones will intrude,
ushered straight into your currently showing life,
to commandeer the screen and display
pleasure’s caress or pain’s acid reflux.
You never know when they’ll reappear,
those inert memories, long dormant and forgotten,
or how long they’ll stay.
