Memories and Time

In some store as it pisses down with rain, you wander over to the magazines and flip through the pages of one showing all the latest movies on at the cinema. We could go see a flick later I guess. For now, though, I’m searching for something that has no name. In the morning after we woke it was calling to me from within your belly, but now it’s someplace else. Not fixed nor permanent, it shifts around town leading us on a wild goose chase, and whenever I get close, I find myself on the verge of some out-of-body experience. It’s something to do with memories and time, and how they aren’t mere echoes but alive. Turning to look at me, you lower the magazine as I stumble around with my hands held out as if searching for a light switch in a darkened room. Calling my name, I…