Memory Theater
Kianna Zucker
aug 2020
Through the thick haze of smoke Glints of family dinners Drift downwards Old stuffed animals With backstories I’ll never remember Curl around the edges My mother’s Farsi lessons Nailed down week by week Licked clean by the flames I reach my fingertips out To grab anything I can But they are just out of reach Crumbling Into fine black Dust before my eyes My memory theater is burning And I can’t save my friend Lauren who I met at camp And I can’t find the smell Of my grandmother’s Persian cooking Where did that go? But maybe as I let My middle school sleepovers Fall apart I’ll build a new stage With the old spine Holding it all together