nostalgia

nostalgia creeps down my face,

gliding from my eyes

– a blurry window to my soul –

and over the rosy hills

that are the plumpness of my cheeks.

slipping further down

past my pores,

my impurities,

edging closer

and closer still

to my lips

until i can finally fathom

what happened all so long ago,

eons it seems.

why does it taste so salty?