How many faces are in a crowd?
Do they look at me?
They are so solemn, so quiet, so still.
They could be real, they could be ghosts,
Conjured from the past.
The fist thump, bump of my heart
As I see your eyes, glinting
Back at me,
Deep in my dream, hundreds
Turn to thousands.
Heads multiply like cells
Mitosis and myosis?
I don’t know if you are real
But you scare me.
I don’t remember anything after Saturday afternoon?
Who are you?
Where am I?
So many questions, I remember going to the park for a walk, I can see in my minds eye the youth on a motorbike, then I forget…. Its gone.
Who are you? A nurse? Who are they? My parents…..?
What did I do to get here?
Hello, yes I feel OK, just taking my pulse? My blood pressure….
Yes so you are my doctor?
There was a boy on a motorbike, I can see him in my minds eye. Where was that?
I need to sleep. Dreaming, remembering, she sees the park, the ducks running for the bread she was feeding them. The motorbike comes through the park gate, along the path, speeding, roaring. Breaks and skids to avoid the ducks and hits her hard….
Waking, the memory fades, she sees time reverse, only now she’s further down the path. The ducks are still on the lake. The sun is shining on her face. Heat. Her face is hot…..
Who am I?
Why am I here? I remembered, but then I forgot.