(image from flickr.com)

The door is locked
and you won’t share the key

Sometimes I catch you in there
when you think I won’t notice

like the Garden of Eden
fruit of all trees can be eaten
except one

I have access to all rooms
except one

I don’t desire knowledge
for I know what’s in there

Neatly packaged bundles of memory
wrapped with the bonds of time

some bursting their ties
swollen with retelling

others tattered around the edges
faded and worn

I want to throw the door open
dust away cobwebs

let in the light of day
cut the bonds of these tightly held packages
loose the memories

releasing
like a boat being untied from its mooring
ready to accept a new adventure

but the door remains locked
and you won’t share the key