Echoes of Paradise

My memories are full and round.
I clasp them between my palms,
supranational spheres of times left behind.
They are unbreakable, solid, and beautiful.
Echoes stuck in an infinite loop of movements;
falling in love and dying over and over again.
It would be easy to let go.
Unbelievably easy just to separate my hands
and let them fall to the ground.
Instead I swallowed them.
They knock around in my chest when I breathe.
Ringing like a wind chime made of glass marbles;
if you listen closely you can hear the patterned glass
clinking against one another when I talk,
causing cracks in my smile when I say hello.

5 thoughts on “Echoes of Paradise

  1. 1EarthUnited

    I love your surrealistic imagery, they’re so vivid and alive! Your poem unfolds like the landscape of our collective souls. Bravo!


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