I like the xerox eyes, the phosphorus smile. This is sad and lingering, yet I must remain thankful for my memories of those gone.

I so feel this. The beginning of August is a reminder of what I lost. ~N

i love the imagery in this, sad and almost distant. the idea of shredding a memory is so often appealing

They say the dead have nothing except the memory they've left. But, I read much more here. It's like there are no futures, only streams of endless possibilities that collapse into one present as we rush head long into them and even the present is an illusion, slipping from our grasp as we reach for it, becoming the past. Maybe, It's only the past that truly exists. The past that scars our minds with memory, with reverberations that dictate our lives, with traces that haunt our eyes till death. A ponderous verse from you. I'm greatful. Thanks.

hmm... i will need to chew on this one for a bit. its got alot to take in and i think there is more beneath the surface. not to miss out, i will ponder it for a while. thanks for the intriguing read!

Oh gees. What a poem. I am glad I had the patience for that third read because it paid off. I relate to the slice a moment's memory can make into the heart. And kudos for the clever machine metaphor.