where lost memories go

i.

I woke up cold and viscous today

memories feeling through the dark to gorge on marionberries

only occasionally bumping into each other or the hinds of snuffling wildebeest

it's a wild game out there

when they emerge from darkness

whether by waking or being hooked on someone else's line

they become quite another creature

shimmering scales replace luscious brown fur

tentative brown eyes give way to deep blue pools of certainty

and what of

that imprint, that prize, that loss

you swore you'd keep forever

until the ends of time

well, that, too, has changed

dripping cords of moss

like regal gowns

and slimy scales of moonlight

and who's to say

underneath the webbing

where the light peeks through

there's not a shade of truth?

ii.

it's the place where lost memories go

to die

to be reborn

and maybe

circle back

around

and around

twice or thrice

until we forget

which side was up

where fact left off

and fiction gained

and truth became the thorn

iii.

I went to the place of lost memories

to lose my past

and find myself

return to something new

I've been away awhile

doing what

I'm not completely sure

you know how it is

   how it all seems so important

   the deadlines and plans made just right

but then the wind picks up,

dreams and old wrappers whip through air

until one big whoosh later

everything stills

and you find yourself

in the same old, same old

new landscape

but I like the way the sun melts

when the butter hits my toast

so I allow myself the decision

that I'm home

that I'm here

that I've always been

that it's time to hit the road

A poem by Amber Byers, 2025