Reflection

Life lends itself
to looking backwards

the younger self
the beautiful one
that knew not of
her beauty
or her future

that realized not
that she was living
back in the day

in the days
she would fondly
remember
as youth's memory
embelishes
each moment

exagerrated into
an existential collaboration
of truthful rumors
built on blocks
of friendships, trips,
pictures, apartments,
the imaginings and promises

unearthed and retold
to our older selves

at once or in bits
but always there
partially real
painful to feel
and beautiful

immersing ourselves
in the love we had
and the love we have

and this life