I remember

Y U N I  |  J u n e  0 8 , 2 0 1 5

I remember my tricycle as a giant
On which I would wheel around the house and feel like I was cycling the world
I remember thinking that babies could be made by mothers alone
And arguing with my friend about it
And convincing her that I was right
I remember saying son of a bitch when I was eight
And I remember lying and saying that I didn’t
I remember smelly soggy socks from coming down that mountain
And I remember my toes paralyzed from the cold
I remember not being able to do the Vulcan salute
And my brother taunting me with it
Until I mastered it
I remember not eating spinach because spinach
And I remember eating spinach because spinach
I remember my cousin biting my big toe because she doesn’t remember
I remember my aunt, no, not that one, yes that one
I think I remember a childhood friend I had
Whose name I can't remember
I remember being fearless on the swings and fearful on the seesaw
I remember being shorter than my television
And being proud when I beat its height
I remember it being worth almost drowning
Just to get a popsicle afterwards
I remember being friends with Sylvie
And I remember not being friends with Sylvie
And I remember being friends with Sylvie again
I remember running the two meters between the light switch and my bed
To escape from the coming darkness
I remember a time when I could not remember at all
A time that was spent being rather than remembering
When I used to be afraid of scary things rather than scary thoughts










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