Sanity is not a Statistics

Life is a journey, they say.
In search for words
in the corners of the world,
It seems easy.
Unknown vernacular is scattered
on the long forgotten floor.
Mist from long lost feet echoes-
A language of ancient times.

Memory is nothing but
a forgotten language.
No one other than you can speak it.
No one other than you know it.
No two people in a memory
remember it the same.
We often hear ourselves asking others,
“Remember this, remember that”?

Memories written on the skin
are lethal.
How do you describe a touch
that no longer exists!
Existence is a whole other thing,
let’s not go there.
But
everything exists in a memory.

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