Prophecies (poem)

Our memories let us tell the future:

I know how I will feel when I see you next,

As I know how I felt when I saw you last.

Maybe this is why,

When I predict what is to come

I feel so stable,

So secure.

Our past is happy, fun, incredibly safe,

The hardest blow would seem like

A light breeze against the strongest mountain.

Nothing.

Our present is always supported by our past,

Heavy foundations forever gaining weight,

It supports the tiniest pin of now, never struggling.

As the pin of the present could never prick the past.

Room 14,

Room 15,

Madrid…

Our memories form always ready to devour what is yet to come.

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