The emotions
in my chest
threaten to
EXPLODE
if I don't give them voice
in the form of lyrical language.

But I refuse.

This is one memory that I want to keep for myself, sweet and thrilling, and slow motion every time I replay it.

I want the details to remain clear
and vivid
in my mind
and against my skin.

Though I tell
my family and friends,
this is my memory;
I will not give it up
as a sacrifice
to the celestial chasm
that is poetry.