After talking to my sister,

I realised

it's not so easy to slather new memories

over what used to lie closest to my heart

It's all melted like

ice cream (my favourite flavour)

spilling over the sides of the cone,

little trickles of coffee brown sliding and weaving its way down to the pointy end

snapping off from the tip/



Nostalgia hits me at the most unexpected times,

)

it's impossible to recapture the taste of what's lost.

B 2 220309 @ PO