The Color of my Memories

Gold is the color of my memories

They’re in soft focus, tinged in orange

And they smell of sage and honeysuckle

I go there a lot, more than I should

But I’m comfortable there, because I know what happens

There are no trick endings, plot twists or uncertainties

I know how everything turns out

But not everything turns out

Some of my memories aren’t finished yet

Maybe I can still make those ones turn out

Make them turn out gold, with a tinge of orange, smelling of sage and honeysuckle

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