wrinkles

Clouded eyes readjust the rearview,

A little more to the left...

No, don't look.

Just go on ahead.

You'll be just fine.

But my hand keeps fumbling with the tilt.

I do so as if I am being summoned.

LOOK.

And with knees fraile, I sit awhile.

And gaze back.

Second and third glances at my yesterdays become full-on stares.

Obnoxious & rude even for my gaping is a bit obtrusive.

But the photographs and memories don't mind.

I seek and I find old faces who knew me.

And, I them.

And these faces bring floodfuls of memories back to my very now.

Nostalgia is unforgiving when it beseiges your heart.

You relive.

You pause present and fervantly rewind.

Only to press stop and rewind again in hopes to hear the past more precisely this time.

Yes, perhaps this time through, memory won't leave out every last detail possible.

And there I go again.

Fidgeting more agressively now with the mirror.

Leaning forward, I stretch my eyeballs wide and closer in, in hopes for a better view.

Pissed I forgot my glasses now.

Where are those dang things?

Phsst, no time for that nonsense.

The look-see is about to leave me.

My heart races in remembrance of the past that held me.

Pictures pungent with messages sent and recieved.

sent and received

PAST.

Fingers aching to find a way to feel.

Knuckles buckling at the chance.

Lips on the ready to say it all once more, only this time a little louder.

Yes, with more gusto.

That'll do it.

An immediate urgency to put an end to this nostalgic-ness.

NO MORE.

For be it the best or the absolute worst, I don't like looking back.

It's in the fierce & frantic moments of fleeting memories-in-focus that I find nostalgia looking back at me.

Eyeballs wide and closer in for hopes of a better view.

I peer desperately at my many yesterdays.

And, sweetly my yesterdays surround me:  the good and the bad.

And alas, I feel a sincere peace envelope me.

Discreetly, with a brilliance unknown to man, nostalgia whispers goodbye.

Foggy and diluted with emotions, I remain transfixed.

And suddenly, with eyeballs wide, there I am.

Staring at two green irises and overly dialated pupils.

Wrinkles are but her footprints left.

.mac :)