I don't have a lot of memories of the time before I was five. I remember lying on the floor in, I think, the living room, having just found what appeared to be some sort of gelatinous excreta, presumably from the cat. This was the first time I had ever encountered such a thing, and I found it to be bewildering, like finding a jellyfish on the beach.
I remember falling down the stairs to the basement once. That is to say, I fell down the stairs, and what I actually remember were the stairs quickly rotating around me as I got closer to the bottom. Amazingly, perhaps via some extra-sensory motherly intuition, my mom caught me before I hit the b
the sun in her hair
is no longer there and
the sparkles are gone
her eyes are an opaque and
dusty chalkboard recently erased
the shape of her words invisible
she grasps at the lost ideas
sometimes sees the shape of letters
but is blind to their meaning
she traces the memories with a finger
drawing shapes in the aimless air but
forgets them as they dissolve
once there were moments of
lucidity of blissful awareness and
understanding would crash upon her
she would realize for those brief
timeless minutes that her mind was
a dry erase board and the lessons of
her life were done
she would cry at
the unfairness and misery
the