The ebb and flow of my memories are not kind to you.

They drift into consciousness like a reel of old black and white film.

There’s no stark contrast…just muddled grays interspersed with spots of darkness.

A loss of awareness occurs because time has erased some of my pain and some of my joy.

I can’t remember if your voice soothed or if your touch bruised.

I can’t remember if you loved me kindly, or loved me at all…