How do you define a moment?
A unit of time of an
unspecific duration during
which events occur that
become significant to those
interposed in such a time and place
Or maybe it's a shared experience.
The immediate emotions that
create significance. That space
in which a breath is needed, a pause,
to attempt to understand and
remember what will henceforth sit in memory.
Or is it utterly undefinable,
unattainable until in retrospect?
The small things which go
unnoticed until context gives them
value beyond measure, leaving
the desire to go back to them.
The quiet. The slow, heavy,
nauseating dread that comes from
being alone - entirely alone;
is that too a moment?
Is it worth stopping to disect
or better off left from memory?
The moments we hold close
define us - but what of those
we try to forget, despite their
brand burned into us? Surely those
are more precious for they tried
to drown us - yet here we stand.
