Where Memory Outlives Time

Where Memory Outlives Time

Tears don’t always fall.

They drift in the mind

like satellites

loosed from orbit,

slow-motion signals

across the blackroom of time.

Not grief,

but gravity remembering.

Love isn’t a moment

it’s a constellation

burned into the hands of an oaken clock and every breath,

a frequency that keeps pulsing

long after touch has stilled.

You never forget the day they vanished, the shape they left behind

an imprint in the air and universe

like heat after lightning,

like a silhouette scorched

into the filmstrip of your soul.

Some things pass in a second

But memory?

Memory is spacetime’s rebel.

It lingers longer than a moment itself

It's a glitch in the hourglass,

a clock that refuses

to stop ticking

even when the hands are gone

it still chimes.

They may have drifted

maybe forgotten from time to time ,

maybe just changed shapes

but when you reach inside

you still see their face

in reflections,

hear their voice

in the background static

of late-night silence.

We carry them:

in bloodline-chords,

in laughlines carved from shared jokes,

in arguments we still finish

alone.

Moments become galaxies

in the afterglow

brightbursts we revisit in an instance

when everything else fades.

Time dissolves,

but memory is ours to keep

memory is a stardust archivist.

It is our catalog of love lost and found

in the particles

we breathe without knowing.

And so we orbit one another forever

even when apart,

family and loved ones remain

a constellation-map

etched in soul-skin.

The world moves forward,

but the hands of time on some clocks refuse to reset.

Because we were built to feel

to remember,

to carry love

beyond the math of minutes and moments.

And when the universe forgets

we don’t because love lives in our hearts forever

We gather the remnants,

build temples from echoes,

and stand together

in the gravity

of what once was,

holding it all until the day memory fold us together

again