i was thumbing through some memories yesterday, everything i've ever done and seen. there were so many pages of misdirected hate, wrongful love, doomed-to-fail relationships. and buried in a rust-colored box the gently fading memories of wrongful lust, groping hands, my childhood fear of discovery. i look back and think that maybe i can forgive him, but it will be so long until i forget. for the memory, however dark, sparkles as if it were yesterday, even hidden in the murky depths of my heart. hands are so beautiful but i'm scared of men's hands.