I had a wish the other day
that felt like so much like a memory
I had to prove it so.
That determined thought
caught the next train
and,
several cabs later,
it reached the archives.

It only took a few minutes,
rummaging through old files and records,
flinging them past my attention,
one at a time,
for that faithful little hippocampian to come through.
"Stop," I said.

The thought paused on the box marked
'Her eyes,'
and my dreams awoke to rush me all at once.