I forgot how music can often peel off those layers of “what I have to become” revealing the one I always needed to be.

I forgot how the wind can take the shape of a long, heavy gown, while the sky becomes a silky cleavage adorned with shimmers.

I forgot how the grass changes its shades, meeting seasons and heavy steps.

I forgot how my eyes can crawl on empty walls, drawing faces that I might have met in a past life or I am yet to meet.

I forgot. I forgot so many people, smells, voices and unspoken words.

I forgot. So much childhood and so many dreams I forgot.

The shape of my teenager hip, the watery taste of dispenser ice cream, the hidden journals. The school bags. The spring break. The Easter mass. The shape of my rebel eyebrows. My reflection in the mirror.

Was I even there? Was I not just sent here?

Isn’t this the first time I vibe under the hug of this song?

Was it? Was I? Where we?

…