Do you ever just want to capture a moment?
Save it in time? Lock it away?
Afraid to forget.
The memory, the feeling.
Maybe it’s self defense…
Against what we know is inevitable.
The day it blurs,
And eventually wipes away.
Like a vivid painting left out to dry
Without a rock to hold it down.
It blows effortlessly and drags across the earth.
Until, eventually, all that is left are the remains of something once beautiful.
Fading and irreplaceable.
The feeling of the strokes.
So exact, as your heart guides you.
It cannot be reproduced.
Nor can memories
Because that feeling of joy, exaltation , utter enjoyment…
Also, cannot be imitated, replicated, or reiterated.

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