The strange thing, it was all simply a dream,
how realistic, the mind recreates
each setting as it remembers, a twist:
Versions of two bookstores shifted around
installations of framed units, sections
virtually disappearing, their place
in the rabbit warren, deep underground,
decidedly misplaced, I had to learn
new settings, why the table wasn't there,
even after ten years, the brain creates
simulations of real spaces, my work
space shifted, again, but then, what is new,
old bookstore and new blended together,
forget what I knew, anxiety peaked.
Life is strange, how you remember places
in exact detail, the setting remains,
verisimilitude, the appearance,
exactly the same but with a cruel twist,
depending on present circumstances.
Exactly as I remembered the place,
xenophobia stole my composure,
people were the same, the setting was strange,
even if I tried to imagine in
real time such an environment, my mind
is one within that underground past life,
every detail was the same, with a twist,
new circumstances challenge us to strive,
change creates anxiety and terror,
even if it were a dream, I still hope,
seeing old friends, everyone is okay.
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