- suppressed memories -

She runs away
from hibiscus-scented summer,
the hammering of exotic drums,
at a butterfly's flight from the sea.
It's where her dark-haired boy
drowned
and with the soft veils
of contained suffering
she dried her tears too soon.

In an acceleration,
bright souvenirs faded
and broken summer seashells
were stuffed in a bag,
deep in the well
of her tampered memory.

The past traveled fast in her synapses,
as the cold shot they gave her
made its way through her veins.

Of course, she knows
memory is a deadly weapon
that although re-ordered,
stored, and covered,
lies only dormant for a while.

She is always on the move
with light luggage,
no real commitment,
just work, lame excuses and façade.

One day - fatally -
the cold, bitter cutting edge
of a single word,
uttered nonchalantly,
will bring her to her knees,
igniting
the rocket of hidden memory,
ready to burst.

Until then,
to avoid the explosion -
followed by the steep path of mourning -
covered in sweat,
she runs.