Time

If I had the secret
Cupped, craddled, in the palm of my hand
- The shape of a key
Pressing gently on the lock of time
I’m not sure I could bring myself
to erase these memories
The boisterous, the honest, the ugly
They are mine…
I may bring it to you though,
and tell you to use it wisely
(I know there are moments
You would rather forget)
But perhaps then,
You wouldn’t have met me
And my fidelity to personal experience
Would at once become irrelevant
Such is life
Such is the game of variables
Of interchangeable realities
If I had the key to time
My ear pressed against its lock,
Like childhood curiosity
I’m not sure I could ever
so much as shift these memories