Though I’ve lived in England for most of my life, when I was but a small child my father had a mid-life crisis and...
"Worlds branch off like capillaries From an oaken aorta"
"The memory is hazy, the photographic still of the memory I keep in my head, more so."
"How accurate is this depiction of memory? It turns out Inside Out is a lot more reliable than you might think."
"It is the light/That engulfs me/Its fingers of dust waltzing ever so softly"
'snippets of shared secrets, tied to a half forgotten memory'
Fated to be caught perpetually behind the window, always waiting for that elusive tomorrow.
Jem Bosatta explores a connection between memory and the senses