Memories build cities, they live inside us,
in you in me,
neighborhoods where we tuck in the safe ones
kiss their foreheads,
shut and lock the front doors
and keep them carefully,
keep them there.
Dusty dirty roads in pleasant countryside,
with cool blue hills and morning dew
and sometimes wandering thoughts roam
looking for somewhere that used to be home.
And deep-ocean wells, holding fears they won't tell
of first love's heartbreak, or under-bed monsters or simply the idea
of mom growing old.
They’ve built kingdoms for memories
adorned in velvet and that backyard
where you used to catch ladybugs,
where you were once a queen,
a doctor one day, and somedays
just happily yourself.