Memory doesn't use the Dewey Decimal System
Or some obtuse algorithm
It is not an instrument of the state
It's more an act of magic
That appears nowhere else
In the world an image
Comes up on an inner screen
Triggered by some taste or touch
Body memories soul memories
That night on the beach
What if we lived in the future
As much as we live in the past
And knew once done
Nothing is forgotten but returns
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