What Once Was

Everywhere that I have walked has remembered me.
I have left an imprint, the size of a ladybug, the depth of a pond.
The color of the skin under your nails.
The slightest scent of moisture under your tongue.
Here and There call out to me, sometimes fondly.
And I respond courteously with memories and an appropriate moment of reverie.
At times my imprint acts as a earthbound black hole,
Drawing my widespread body towards it with mysterious force.
Absorbing the memories I offered and hiding them away
With its collection of weddings, hugs, dead pets, and stars.
Thus with mild panic I circle around and around it,
This is a game of ring around the memory. I like it. I'm laughing.
A high-pitched song in my ears, my mind quiets to a soft hum, ceases thought.
I can only feel now, live simply as an infant does,
Searching to relive what once was.