Sometimes we need to unwarp our memories
and enjoy the times filled with a thousand different things
sometimes we don’t want to tell lies to keep our self respect
there is still time to plan for for the future
to wash the dust from out feet, so we can go forward again
but sometimes too, memories hurt
like the sound of door late at night, the shrieking of an insect
in a dark clump of weeds, settling on the window
then crawling slowly into our warm, restle’s bodies
(Dorothea Rosa Herliany)
