…there is a house – in the center of the first floor, a square opening with a ladder leading to the second. there, a bedroom with a soft, plastic floor – warm on my knees, dark wood walls surround me, and a mahogany bureau against the wall. i’m crawling on the floor, searching for my favorite – sugar cookies, hidden – someon comes in, and finds me, placating my child’s desire; the taste still sweet on my tongue, as i gloat over my good fortune.

suddenly…i’m crying, and don’t know why, and i’m held, and don’t know who. this house, with its ghosts, in my dreams, so fleeting – to focus on it, and it disappears into the threadbare wisps of memory, recedes into the dark corners of my cerebral maze…

is this all i have to hold on to? am i sleeping, or am i awake, dreams and memories dancing, intertwined in angry and wild colors, impossible to decipher, one in the same, the same in each other…

엄마 (mother), help me…help me remember…

Advertisements