You keep me coming back. No matter how clogged my mind gets, Or the speed at which the cargo train flashes, the coursness of sand-on-stones, thr slightness of the ripple just a moment after the rock sinks, I think, prehaps, that part of me Is really made Of the memory of You, Of You and me in what to me is as distant a future as past was to past and for you is is bleeding, throbbing, whiring with love and hope, Of us together in our everlasting, You in I in me in You. I think that that is what made me, and that part of me pre-remembers with the resonance of eternity, And that is why I keep on coming back.