borges

the way Borges
makes subtle claim

that past is the thing
memories are made of
and birthed from

the womb of the tomb opens

very wide either to swallow us inside
its void, where lonely wanderer's
dreams hide,

or to regurgitate us out into an unnerving,
never-ending fate

it's hard, as of late, to remember

you're lucky simply to be alive
for the first and last time