I Often Forget Memories

I OFTEN FORGET MEMORIES

are but a clumsy patchwork you know 

how they’re haphazardly sewn together 

scraps of mother’s favorite thanksgiving

story, photos and photos’

frames, and dusty pieces you finger

out the crevices of your mind and 

you think you can recall through 

the frayed stitches

but

did the concrete really grind your knees?

did the steaming pot really kiss your fingertips?

did the flight of stairs really bundle you down to the floor?

did the stairs fly?

did the fly really?

did?