I sometimes have to remember
all that I have seen
and felt,
touched, experienced
and lost,
for sometimes it feels like a dream,
one that my imagination
has stirred and fired off without warning;
I sometimes have to remember
the hands I have shook,
for in the skin I have
I collect their memories also
and in the end their thoughts bleed
into mine,
an honour to have been part of it all,
but I have forgotten
most of all that ever
happened.