Formless Foam

 Memories are shapeshifters.

And They can hit you in waves. 

Rush at you like a forceful wind.

Brush your cheek gently like the breeze.

Sway ever so slightly in your periphery like the trees.

Charge at you like a beast from out of the wilderness.

They can hide in plain sight. 

Emerge out of the most unexpected corners.

Without so much as a shadow to give caution, 

Without so much as a whisper let alone a warning. 

Like a dusty old chest of decaying remains you wish had stayed shut

Or 

The lingering fragrance from an uncorked bottle of musk. 

Do you have a say in what you remember ? 

Do you get to choose how you remember what precious little you do remember?