A Specter of Something

I am trying to remember my dreams but they are sinking fast into all of this days disasters. I ran around- crazy. A chicken. And I've come home to try to find the remnants of yesterday, only to scramble back to bed to find the morning. I am always looking for things. There is someone hinting on the edge of my memory and I am pushing him back, far from me, but I can still see him in so many sideglances, dangling around in my peripheral vision, a specter of something I can't remember in words, only brief images and dreams, only in a floating feeling. I see the little statcounter map and I wonder if it is just someone else in Montreal. It could be. Last night I dreamed I was there. I dreamed I saw you standing in the middle of the mall, bundled up in snow gear, mittens. There was a line of light coming in from the glass ceiling above you and you were still as young as you were then. I want to brush it off. I want to let it slide off my shoulders but those words which once rang so true inside me still vibrate in my memory every once in a while. I suppose, though, that this is not rare. That I am a pisces and everything reverberates inside me always, people I can never give up. And they all stare at me from photographs which capture so much of who they are. And sometimes I wish I could forget. But, mostly I just wish I could write them more real than they ever were and therefore know them. That's what must be done.