I Remember The Blur, Can I Remember You?

I remember the blur, the shot taken while moving, the moment in a kaleidoscope of moments. I remember the shape of what we might have done and who we might have been. It is like a loaf of bread proofing in a cabinet. It is like a pour of ink crawling outwards on fabric. It is changing and I can’t stop it.

Can I remember you? Can I remember your laughter? Your joy? Your sadness cut across the table in the library? Can I remember everything you taught me?

Can I hold you as a fixed thing before everything becomes forever changed? Can I hold you?