I tend to think
That memories for me are like
A sweater of various palette
One that’s still being knit
So when you pull one thread
It all unravels
You have to start over
Or you consider it done and over
But the curves of the thread are there
They tell something was once knit here
And though they can no longer show for it
You can feel by their changed pattern
So are memories
A touch brings them rushing like floods
Try as you might to forget
But you still feel the imprint
The beautiful, the bad, the unspoken
Our memories are all just sweaters being knit
Read – Memories – A Poem by Comfort Naana Adwoa Okyere, Ghana
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