Closeting memories, turning the key, locking them interiorly so they can never be reached by anyone, but me.
Fiddling intensely with their characters, trying to relive every possibility through thoughts of angelic behavior.
Reaching for ends of ribbon lying beneath the door, pulling on them, wanting to explore one at a time without any interference.
Collecting images, placing them into visions, out of place, testing undeveloped reasons for each one.
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