memory is a silent medium

now i imagine her in sepia even though
she was never a photograph always live
old memories have the faculty of fading
when chemically treated by brain juices

the backdrop was the first to dissolve
into stray pixels bush engulfed by the wall
an aspen a fuzzy x-ray carcass of the sky
under which she haunted my youth beyond
the scalloped edge of my coarse recollection

senility is silent from inside
there is no such thing as sepia sound
when the discourse within is desiccated
we are ready to surrender

and suddenly i find myself so old
in the star system where she never loved me
and what remains of her escapes my x-rays
there is hardly me and barely her to speak of
we are but dumb images of each other
recursive reflections in our brains
turning brown