My First Memory
Thread begins in the flicker of Subconscious. So comes the First stretch of thought- disentangled Lilac, hyperbolic in every note, I sit On the chair so high that it Might be a throne. I can only capture it in fragments but in this, I marvel at such constructed dimension and The vivid time-warp slows.
Thread unwinds- I suppose This is the first of Many enigmatic concepts that would thrill me. So I Capture it in saturation. For the first time, I recite The infamous phrase that would one day be Weary as these eyes, these pools of Perception seeping out of void. One day, worn as the Mind, my creaking cog in the- perhaps- Grand machine;“ I will remember this.” Hurled into
Conscious. The whole World held static, as it does. I sat On the chair so low- I just might have grown.
Sophia Gozzard
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