north beach, san francisco

before we left home

you said the streets

here would flow

with gold.

 

you told us

we could keep our names

if we wanted

& then you changed

them.

 

you promised

we would go back

every year

 

remember every word

we heard

thru the walls & waters

of the womb

 

you never mentioned

that memory works

like a cranky camera:

 

chaos of stops

& starts

 

awkward stills

drained of warmth

the sepia of desire

dulled.

 

by Tina Zaman

 

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Taken on April 14, 2007